


Angels of the Sea

by hollyblue2



Series: The Archangel [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, BAMF!Cas, Community: deancasbigbang, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Elements, Minor Character Deaths, Pirate!Cas, Stowaway!Dean, Stowaways, Tattoos, a little violence, ish, non graphic scenes of corporal punishment, sexual scene of mature nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:04:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 53,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8395681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyblue2/pseuds/hollyblue2
Summary: The Archangel – a pirate ship run by young Captain Castiel Novak – is unknowingly boarded by two stowaways.Sam and Dean just needed to get away from their father’s killers and are found stashed away in the storage room of the ship. Raphael is adamant they are killed but Castiel’s heart is too big to dispose of them both.
Lives spared, they join the crew, Dean taking up navigation and Sam to the galley and an adventure using Dean’s amulet to find a mysteriously hidden island begins.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay wow! This is my first go at a DCBB and it's been a hell of a ride! I started this in January and have been working on it ever since. 
> 
> I have a lot of people to thank too: Nat (galaxystiel) for suggesting this should be a DCBB in the first place and being one of my ever amazing Betas. Neeraja (adoredean) for being supportive and helpful as well as my Beta. My best friend, Steph (theavengers-wintershadowhunter) for letting me rant on numerous occasions, asking for plot advice and also reading through for the final time to make sure I hadn't missed anything!
> 
> A thank you to my sister as well for helping me with research pertaining to sea vessels! 
> 
> A massive thanks goes to my artist @lennyways who has produced 4 pieces of absolutely amazing fanart!!! :D ♥
> 
> I have thoroughly enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it!
> 
>  
> 
> (also, happy birthday to Chloe (destielonfire) who's been waiting very patiently!)

 

* * *

 

Their father had been ill for a while. The doctor had said there was nothing they could do about it. Nothing they could afford. It was the ale that he drank. It made him unsteady on his feet all the time, not just after a few tankards and he rarely ate anymore. It worried Dean and Sam Winchester to no end. They had already lost their mother to a fire when they were both young. It had burnt down their home in the country and their father had moved them to the ports to find better work.

It was made even worse when several people came knocking on the door to their home, or their excuse for a home which was three beds in the back of the space where their dad used to repair carts.

It was early in the morning when the knocking began.

“Winchester!” dark and gruff voices yelled. Dean woke in that instant, he found his younger brother already awake, sitting up in the hard wooden bed with just a scrap of cloth covering his shoulders, a scared look plaguing his features.

“Dean!” Sam whispered harshly. “Dean! What do we do?”

Dean could see the panic on the fifteen-year-old’s face, he threw back the piece of linen and made his way to Sam’s bed. He hugged him tight, whispering that it would be okay.

Their father didn’t move. He was still breathing, that much Dean could see, it was unlikely he’d get out of bed though, not after the amount he had drunk the night before.

The knocking became harder and louder.

“Get outta here!” John suddenly yelled, startling Dean a little.

“You owe us thirty gold, Winchester!”

“I said get out!” He barked and slowly got to his feet, staggering slightly. Dean and Sam stayed quiet as they watched John head towards the door.

“Thirty gold, Winchester! Or we’ll take those sons of yours and sell them instead. Especially that young one. He’ll go for a lot of money.” Dean paled and his stomach turned as he held onto his brother tightly.

“Don’t let them take us away, Dean. Please.” Sam begged. The threat had been made before when their dad owed people money. Sam’s long arms wrapped around his brother, waiting out what would happen.

They could both hear the shouting and when the crash of the front door opening sounded, Dean stood up and went to see what was going on.

It was three against one. John stood swaying on his feet from the effects of the alcohol he’d had the night before at the local tavern. He faced three gruff looking men, all as tall as John, one infinitely more muscular.

“I’ll get you your damn money, Azazel.” John sneered.

“You been saying that for the last two weeks. Give it to me now, or I’ll take those boys a’ yours. What’ll it be?” the man, Azazel grinned an ugly smile.

John stepped forward. “You keep your filthy hands off them. They’re not part of this.” He stepped into Azazel’s space and the other two men flanking him moved in.

Dean made to step forward. He could help. He could make the impending fight fairer but Sam tugged at the hem of his shirt. When Dean looked down at him, Sam was shaking his head, he didn’t want his big brother to get hurt. Still, they moved into the room, just in case they needed to step in.

There was a mechanical click and Dean’s blood ran cold and his skin fizzled with horror. No. There was no getting out of this now.

“You run when I say, Sammy. You hear.” He whispered and Sam nodded a little but it was all Dean needed. There was no way he would let Sam get taken by them, even if it meant he was taken.

The pistol came into view. They were pretty uncommon round these parts, people visiting the port sometimes had them but they were expensive, only owned by the wealthy folk. Azazel lined the weapon up with John’s heart. Dean turned Sam into him so he couldn’t watch; if this went south, there was no way Sam was watching.

“Give. Me. The. Money.” He grated.

“No.”

Bang.

Smoke and the smell of gunpowder filled the room from the blast and John fell unceremoniously to the floor. Dean let out a pained almost sob as he saw his dad hit the dusty floor, unmoving, pale and ultimately dead. Blood had bloomed onto John’s shirt and seeped out from under him, staining the floor an ugly crimson, it made Dean sick to his stomach, he’d only ever seen that much blood after Bobby slaughtered a pig that one year.

Dean wanted nothing more than to go and see his dad. They had no time though, those men were now after them. After his little brother.

“Sam, RUN!” He shouted as the three men advanced towards them, drawing long swords, guns were useless when you didn’t have much ammunition. Sam began to run, pausing at the doorway at the back to make sure his older brother was following. Dean was backing up slowly towards where they slept as the men sneered and came towards him. His stomach felt heavy but if he could just keep them away a bit longer to let Sam get away.

Dean glanced a look behind him and saw Sam lingering at the door.

“Run, Sam!” Dean paused for a second to grab his father’s long sword and dagger from the table in the room before high tailing it out of their home, following Sam as the three men took chase.

They ran down the uneven streets barefoot. Stones dug into their feet and Sam tripped, sending him flying forward. Dean ran to him and picked him up off the floor; it wasn’t long before they were running again. Sam had slowed a little but they were still out of reach of their pursuers. Dean followed as Sam rounded a corner and headed in the direction of the port.

Dean was out of breath, the sword heavy in its sheath attached to the too large belt he’d wrapped haphazardly around his waist as he ran. He nearly crashed into his brother as Sam stopped beside some empty wooden barrels, breathing hard. Sam winced a little as he stretched his knee, a small amount of blood seeping into the torn cotton of his night clothes.

“We gotta keep going, Sammy. They’re gonna take you, and you’ll be sold. You don’t want that. Now come on!” Dean knew he was being harsh but he shook the feeling of dread away as he grabbed his brother’s arm and yanked him back to running. He let Sam lead, that way he knew his brother was there and was safe.

The streets were getting busier as they neared the docks. Stalls selling overpriced wares lined the dockside. There were four ships berthed in the port. That was good. One of them looked like a Navy ship, brandishing a fancy flag and painted sides. They would avoid that one, for if they were found before they hit the next port they were sure to be killed.

There were two smaller fishing boats that look feasible but they’d surely ask for money if the brothers wanted to get out of here as there was nowhere to hide. Money wasn’t something they had after their dad drank away whatever he didn’t gamble. So many nights he’d promise to come home with more money than he went with and it never happened. Dean and Sam were left with eating apples that Frank had stolen from the shop next door.

The fourth ship was huge, it had two masts and several sails hanging out ready to sail. The dark wood ship had a deep blue colour painted around the sides and a large figurehead of what looked like an angel with large wings splayed out behind it. If they’d had time to look, they would have instantly noticed the beauty of the ship.

The ship was unmarked with no flag flying, so it seemed safe enough to board when Dean spotted most of the crew, who looked mostly like trading merchants, sorting through barrels and equipment to take on board.

Sam had stopped up ahead, stooping behind a crate out of sight. He was out of breath, his lungs feeling like they would burn out of his chest and a pain in his side. Dean joined him, discretely easing his tender muscles and pointed to the big ship.

“We’ll take that one,” Dean told him. Sam looked at him with an unsure expression. “We’ve got to.”

“Okay, you sure it’s safe?” Sam wondered.

“Probably not, but it’s better than the naval ship or the fishing boats.” He explained to him. Sam wrinkled his nose knowing his fate if he were to board the naval ship.

Shouting could be heard behind them as the men who were chasing them reached the dockside.

“Find the boys. I want them, now!” Azazel growled in the distance. Dean watched as he holstered his pistol and drew his sword. He began to scour the crowds for any sign of Sam or Dean.

“We need to go,” Dean nudged his brother to move and they left the cover of the crates, weaving in and out of the people, Dean both keeping an eye on where Sam was going and also where the other men were.

They neared the ship and it even bigger now they were close. Dean had never seen such a big ship berthed up here apart from the naval ships which dropped in for the town’s ale every couple of months. The gangway was up ahead. Dean pulled his brother to the side once more, hiding out of the way.

“This is the one, Sammy,” He clapped him gently on the shoulder before looking behind him at the ship. He could see the name of the ship written in a calligraphic script on the side.

_The Archangel_.

He’d never heard of it before, and wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. He knew that there were pirates that roamed the seas. There was always the possibility that this was just that. A pirate ship, it was common for them to restock disguised as merchant ships in places where pirates weren’t welcome.

“Dean?” Sam tugged on his shirt to get his attention.

“Yeah,”

“What happens if this is a pirate ship?” He wondered. Dean had no idea how to respond to that, even he didn’t know the answer. They could be killed as soon as they’re found, locked up on the ship, or even sold by the pirates themselves at the next port they came to.

“I don’t know, Sammy,” He replied quietly. “I don’t know.” He smiled at him a little and took his brother into a fierce hug, carding his hand through his brother’s hair to comfort him. “Let’s go, before they start to board the ship.”

They both stood up, keeping low behind the boxes and crates that were hanging around the dockside. Dean looked over his shoulder at the group of people he thought were most likely to be the crew of the ship. They all seemed to be busy, not looking towards their direction. It was no doubt that the ship wouldn’t be completely empty, only a fool would leave a ship crewless, even one berthed in a town dock.

He motioned towards the rope keeping the ship tied to the dockside. He helped Sam get his grip on the rope and watched as he crept towards the ship. Dean made sure to keep a look out for anybody watching them. Once Sam was pretty much at the ship he gripped the coarse rope and wrapped his legs around it. His thin trousers held no protection to the scratching rope and by the time he got halfway through, he knew there’d be rope burns on his legs and hands. Right now though, he didn’t care as long as it got him away from this town.

Dean hoisted himself over the edge and dropped down onto the wooden deck, thankful for the large cannon that would block him from view. Sam sat against the side of the ship, legs tucked to his chest and generally looking small.

“Come on, kid. We need to find somewhere to hide.” He whispered, ruffling his brother’s hair which earned him a scowl. Dean rubbed his sore legs before checking Sam’s and seeing that they were just as bad as his own. “I’ll find something to help that too, okay?” Sam just gave him a small hopeful smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Dean was worried. He tried his utmost to not show it, but he couldn’t help that his heart was beating harshly in his chest. One half of his brain was telling him that this was a horrendous idea that was bound to get them killed, while the other half reminded him that he had no other choice.

Dean chanced a look over the edge of the ship and could see the three men that had been after them standing near one of the stalls conversing, probably trying to work out where they’d got to. It settled some sort of relief within Dean. At least that was one set of people less out to kill them. Now all he had to do was keep Sam safe from anymore potential harm.

He grabbed his younger brother’s arm once again and dragged him towards a door that would hopefully lead them to a place where they could hide. Perhaps they’d find a storage cabin or something similar.

Sam followed him quietly, tip-toeing to the door. It opened without squeaking, thankfully, and they ducked inside. It was dark, as there weren’t any portholes in this part of the ship. Dean could just make out the outline of oil lamps that would normally be used when the ship was at sea. They weren’t burning now though, and Sam clung to Dean like a lost octopus. Sam wasn’t a fan of the dark, despite the million times that Dean was up in the middle of the night with him explaining that it was all okay.

Dean opened all the doors to check inside, but they were just full of hammocks and bunks. Finally, when they reached the end of the dark corridor there was a ladder going down with light at the bottom. Dean looked down the hatch to make sure that the coast was clear and then descended the ladder. Reaching the bottom, he waited for his brother to catch up before heading over to the darkest corner to hide out.

“This is it, Sammy,” He said as Sam sat down next to him.

“We’re gonna get through this right?”

“Of course, we’re Winchesters, we get through anything.” Dean announced and grinned at his brother. Sam frowned, remembering that merely hours ago that their father was killed in front of them and they were chased out of their own home. “Through most things, then.” Dean corrected himself.

“I miss dad…” Sam said quietly, Dean almost missed it as commotion started up on the decks above. Both boys made themselves smaller in the already small, dark space they were in.

Dean didn’t reply to Sam, just looped an arm around his bony shoulders and pulled him in close until Sam’s head was resting on his chest. They would get through this. Get out the other side. Find work, somewhere to live and be happy. Or at least, as happy as a Winchester could be.

There was a bang that startled Dean from his reverie as something heavy was placed on the deck right above them.

_Bang. Their father fell to the floor._

Dean shut his eyes tight before blinking them open. That wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on. He saw it once; he didn’t want to see it again. Though, with all the thumping and thudding of barrels and crates being loaded onto the ship all his mind was replaying was his father’s body hitting the ground.

“De,” Dean exhaled hard before looking down and meeting his brother’s big, hazel eyes, searching his face. “You okay?”

No. He wasn’t okay.

“Yeah, I’m good,” He lied and proved it with a small but false smile.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a shove to Dean’s shoulder, startling him awake. He didn’t even remember falling asleep.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice was close.

“Hmmph,” He replied incoherently, trying to wake his brain up more as he sat up a little. His arm was still wrapped around his brother’s shoulders and there was a dull ache from it being in the same position for too long. “Yeah?”

“My tummy feels funny,” Sam announced and when Dean looked, his brother did look a bit pale.

“It’s probably just ‘cause the ship’s rocking.” He explained and settled back down to return to sleep.

“Yeah… it’ll go away, right?” He wondered, interrupting Dean, who was falling asleep again. Sam rubbed a hand over his queasy stomach and willed it to quit making him feel like he’s going to throw up any moment.

“Should do. I’ll find you some food to settle it. There’s gotta be something to eat around here somewhere.” Dean scrambled to his feet and stood up, unsteady for a moment as he gained his sea legs. He picked around carefully at the boxes and crates that were close to them, making sure that he could put them back as he found them.

Cracking a wooden box open with his small dagger, he found packets of crackers inside. Opening a new packet, he took a few and handed them to his brother. He returned to get a few for himself and shut the box.

They ate in silence save for the crunching of the dry crackers. They weren’t great, but it was better than nothing and it would keep them going and hopefully settle Sam’s stomach. Dean offered him a drink from the small pouch of water he found stashed on his father’s sword belt. Something within Dean twisted at the sight of the small pouch, but he passed it on anyway. They both took measured sips, making sure the water would last as long as possible.

“Feeling better, bud?” Dean asked after a while. They sat against one of the ship supports again, the hard wood digging into their backs and their butts going numb on the hard floor but neither of them caring.

“I, I think so?” Sam said, narrowing his eyes as if questioning his stomach. “Yeah,” He concludes. “Thanks Dean.”

“S’what I’m here for, gotta look out for my baby brother,”

“I’m not a baby, I’m fifteen.” He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Whatever.” Dean finalised and rested his head atop his brother’s. Sam didn’t mind, just leant against his brother as he aimed to ignore the last itches of sea sickness and tried to sleep some more.

Dean didn’t sleep. He just kept his head against Sam’s and breathed lightly to keep his brother calm. Right then, he was thinking too much about the terrible predicament they’d got themselves in. Eventually one, or more, of the crew would end up down here and find them. Dean dreaded it to no end, not that he would ever let Sam know that.

He didn’t even know what he was going to do or say when they were discovered. He couldn’t knock them out, more would only come down and see what was going on. The sword on his hip wouldn’t be much use either, not in such a small space. He highly doubted that he could just talk someone out of telling the Captain that they had two stowaways on their ship. This was beyond a stupid idea.

Maybe they should have just kept running, out of their portside town and towards the country. Or hitched a ride on some cart heading towards another town to sell goods or something. Instead, they were cooped up in the belly of a ship he’d neither heard of nor knew what sort of people owned it.

It felt like hours before Dean even began to drift off, the slow rocking of the ship lulling him deeper and deeper until his eyes shut and he slept dreamlessly.

When Dean woke again it was much colder than it had been. It must be night. Sam sat cross-legged in front of Dean with a strange, sour look on his face.

“Are you okay, Sammy?” Dean asked slowly.

Sam squirmed a little. “I have to pee.” He whispered, not that there was anyone else to hear. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Go on then, it’s not like you have to ask me.” He shook his head. Sam huffed.

“I can’t just _go_ , Dean.”

“In the corner. Well away from where we’re sitting please.” Dean requested and shooed his brother off.

He came back minutes later, flushed in the face.

“You’re a horrible brother.”

“I am but the best.” He teased and hit Sam lightly in the arm as he tried to sit down. 

“Ugh.”

“Charming.” Dean poked his tongue out like an immature child at his brother who simply shut his eyes.

Sam shivered violently all of a sudden and it made Dean realise just how cold it was down here with the little clothing they had on. 

“You cold?” Sam nodded a little. Dean was taking his thin cotton shirt off instantly trying to remain indifferent to the chill that was beginning to seep into his bones.

“Dean, don’t. You’ll get cold. You can’t get cold or you’ll end up like Mr. Willows from the shoe shop.” Sam explained hurriedly and shoved Dean’s shirt back towards him. Mr. Willows had died last winter when the nights had got too cold. Sam, Dean and their dad had taken to making as big of a fire as they could and then sharing one of their beds to keep the body heat in. It hadn’t been practical, three people in one small bed but they’d got through the winter.

“I’m fine, Sam. Promise. I’d much rather you have it. I’m bigger than you.” Dean countered. If only one of them got out the other side of this, Dean would make sure that it was Sam.

“Only for a little bit then. I’ll give it back after.” Sam took the beige material from Dean’s outstretched hand and pulled it over his head.  It was still warm from where Dean had been wearing it. He smiled and shuffled over to where his brother rested. He huddled against his brother again for his own warmth as well as to keep Dean warm too. He really hoped he’d be okay. But his big brother was strong and fit and would be okay in the cold for a little bit.

Sleep came easy to both of them now, there wasn’t much else to do; Sam’s stomach seemed to settle to the bobbing and swaying of the ship. Dean started counting the days they were down there by etching a fingernail into the wood and leaving a mark each time it had got cold.

So far it had been two cold nights, both of which Dean gave Sam his shirt and Sam would hand it back when it got warmer.

“Dean, what do we drink now?” Sam asked as he took Dean’s shirt from him. Dean furrowed his brow and realised that they hadn’t drunk much since they got on the ship.

“I, uh, I will go find something for us to drink.”

“’Kay.” Sam watched as his brother got up from the floor and searched the compartment, upon finding nothing that would suffice as fluid he sauntered over to the ladder they had come down the very first morning.

Dean shot Sam a reassuring smile before ascending slowly and disappearing from his view.

It was quiet on the ship, and Dean could see that it was dark outside. Most of the crew would be sleeping and only the watch would be awake. That was a good thing as Dean tried to remember which door the galley had been behind. He thought about the corridor as if he were coming the opposite way as they had done when they boarded and found the right door.

He opened it slowly, willing it not to creak or hit against anything. It was silent as he swung it open and entered inside.

The galley was all wooden surfaces and an open topped burner for heating food up. This looked like luxury in comparison to their cooking set up at home, which often consisted of roasting cheap meat over an open fire.

Dean quietly rummaged through the vegetables that had been left in a box on one of the ledges and picked out a couple of carrots. Eventually, though, he found a barrel of fluid. There were several tankards on the counter so he nabbed two of them and filled one of them partly with whatever was in the barrel.

He sipped at the unknown liquid. It tasted odd. Like the pressed apples that he and Sam would get in the local tavern, but it had an interesting aftertaste and with that Dean realised that it would be the stuff his father drunk. The same stuff that got him ill from drinking too much. 

Dean reluctantly polished off what was in the cup and took another look around. Another barrel that was on the side had something different stamped on it, so he poured some out and gave it a try. It tasted fruity, though not of the fruits he had before. Maybe this was from somewhere far away and exotic.

Dean filled the two tankards to the brim and made his way back towards where they were holed up. He left one of the cups on the deck as he precariously took the ladder down.

“Sammy, come and grab these off me.” Dean asked, hanging off the ladder. Sam scrambled to his feet and picked his way through the crates to him and took the cup and the two carrots from him.

Dean reached up for the second cup and they returned to their space. Sam was sipping at his drink; a look of delight on his face.

“What is this?” He asked excitedly. Dean looked up from drinking his own peculiar drink to see Sam beaming in the dark. Dean couldn’t help but smile. It was the happiest he’d seen Sam in a long time, and all over a funny tasting drink.

“Some kinda fruit, I’d guess. It’s nothing I’ve had before. And that is a carrot.”

“Well, whatever it is, I like it.” Sam took a large gulp of the stuff and hungrily bit off a chunk of carrot.

“Hey, slow down there. You gotta make it last. I don’t really want to be going up there if I can help it.” Sam swallowed slowly and set his cup down on the floor next to him.

“Yeah.”

For a while they sat in silence. Hours passed, Sam nodded off against Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean?” Sam said quietly, voice still rough from sleep.

“Yeah, bud,”

“How long do you reckon we’ll be down here?” Sam sighed and adjusted his head to a more comfortable position on his brother’s shoulder.

“The ship’s pretty stocked up.  It could be a while unless they need something from somewhere. I don’t even know where we’re heading.” Dean told him. He fiddled with the pendant around his neck, twisting and pulling at it.

Sam pulled Dean’s hand away from it and his expression softened. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself.” Sam told him. Dean stopped and remembered just how intelligent his brother really was, not just that he was good at learning things but he was so good with people too.

“Yeah, come on, have a little more of your drink and then we’ll get some rest.” Dean suggested and Sam followed his orders, taking a drink and then watching with a little dismay as his brother handed his shirt to him again. Sam donned the extra clothing and huddled up to his brother and letting Dean thread an arm over his shoulders again.

Dean leant back against the support, the wood scratching at his back somewhat uncomfortably without the shirt. He settled as much as he could and succumbed to a light doze.

Eight days had managed to go by without incident. It was night again, and Dean etched another mark into the wall before drifting off to sleep.

“Calm yourself! I’m grabbing more crackers now!” A loud, deep voice said and laughed. Someone above deck responded but it was too far away to make out.

Dean’s eyes shot open in alarm. He could see a pair of boots on the third rung down of the ladder. Whoever it was had stopped to talk to someone on the deck above.

Sam was still sleeping and Dean put a hand over his brother’s mouth and shook him awake. There was a groan that was thankfully quietened by Dean’s hand. He eyed the man on the ladder and made Sam aware of him.

Dean nodded towards a bigger looking crate they could both hide behind. His heart beat harshly in his chest as they moved to better cover. Dean held Sam tight into him, engulfing his smaller body within his arms as if shielding him from view. Any other time, Sam would squirm and try to get away, and probably end up in a scrap with each other. Now though, there were much more pressing matters at hand and Sam let his brother protect him and keep him from harm. Sam understood and knew that Dean would do anything to save him. _Anything_.

The man who’d come down to the storage rifled around the crates and found the crackers.

“Goddamn it, Gabriel, eating all the crackers again. We’ll have none left before we know it.” The man mumbled. Dean peered around the crate, holding his breath. The man was dressed warmly; big black boots, thick, woollen looking trousers and a hefty jacket, emblazoned with a blue trim with silver buttons. It seemed like an expensive way to dress, or a way to dress when you stole all the clothes. They _almost_ looked naval.

The brothers waited until he had gone before stepping back out. Dean’s heart was still racing from the near encounter and he took a small sip of the fruity drink they still had.

“That was kinda close.” Dean concluded, trying to play it off lighter than it really was. The event had shaken him, more than he’d care to admit, but it was to be expected on their escape. He knew – even though he didn’t want to think about it much – that they’d have more encounters like that again. It was to be the way, if they were ever going to make it to safety.


	3. Chapter 3

Three nights later, thankfully with no interruptions, Dean needed to go back to the upper deck. They’d run out of drink meaning Dean had to retrieve some more.

He did the same as before, taking their two tankards to the galley, going as quietly as he could. He snuck into the dark room and went to the same barrel and refilled their mugs. He found a couple more carrots and picked two smaller ones, which would be less likely to be noticed that they were missing.

He was about to open the galley door and head back down the passageway when he saw a dark figure loom past following a small burst of orange light.

Dean’s stomach dropped. The figure was heading towards their hiding spot. Dean poked his head out the door. He could see the light in the figure’s hand and watched as he descended down the ladder. Dean dropped the carrots on the floor as he dashed after the man. He just hoped that Sam was able to hide.

A yelp followed by an angry shout could be heard and Dean dropped down the ladder.

Stood there was a plump man with greying hair. He was holding Sam up by the back of his collar, his feet barely touching the ground.

“Get off him!” Dean shouted. The grey haired man spun around, dragging Sam with him. Sam shot Dean a guilty look as if to apologise for being caught. It didn’t matter though; it was bound to happen at some point.

“Oh! This really _is_ gold. Two stowaways. My, my, the Captain is sure gonna be happy.” The man grinned.

Dean couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? He needed to grab Sam, protect him from the man holding him. Dean looked around him, trying to find anything to use as a weapon, any thoughts of not fighting suddenly vaporised. His dad’s sword was behind Sam, there was no way he was going to be able to reach it.

Taking a deep breath, Dean lunged forward, arms outstretched. He shoved the man, hard, knocking him backwards in surprise. Sam wriggled from his grip in the moment of weakness and hid himself behind a nearby crate.

Before the man regained his composure, Dean was already on him, leaping on his back and throwing an arm around his throat. One thing their father had taught them before he died was how to fight, hand to hand and the basics of sword fighting.

The man in Dean’s grip gurgled as his air supply was limited and tried to shout out. There was a thump as Dean’s back collided with the side of the ship and he couldn’t help but loosen his grip. He cried out as he fell to the floor, his already bruised back hitting the deck. Dean lay still, breathing deeply.

“You shouldn’t be here,” The man panted, advancing on Dean. He couldn’t fight now. He had no energy, his back hurt to even move. The man drew his sword.

“No!” Sam cried out. “Please, don’t hurt him.  Please.” Sam emerged from behind the crate, arms up as if in surrender.

“Sammy,” Dean said as a warning to be careful. Dean tried to sit up where he was despite the protest his body was giving him. He needed to get up, needed to be able to protect his baby brother. Sure, he’d had the same training to fight as Dean but he was smaller and lighter than Dean.

“I’m taking you to the Captain whether you like it or not. I’ll give you an option,” the man sneered, he put his sword back into its sheath. “You can either come quietly,”

“No...” Dean said, voice low. He might not be able to fight physically right now, but he sure wasn’t totally giving up.

“Fine.” The burly man grabbed hold of Sam harshly and pulled him towards him. Sam yelled out in surprise. “Guess we’ll do it the hard way. You’re coming with me or the kid gets killed right here, right now. It wouldn’t take much to tell the Captain there was one stowaway and throw him over the side.”

That wasn’t going to happen, not on his watch. Dean stood, grasping at the bulkhead for support.

“Take me, then. Let him go. He’s just a kid.” Dean pleaded. He stepped towards Sam and the man holding him. Sam was squirming, trying to get out of the man’s grip.

“Not going to happen.” He turned and dragged Sam towards the ladder.

“Climb.” He ordered and shoved Sam at the ladder. Sam took the rungs and climbed the ladder with shaky hands.

“Dean!” Sam called back to him, but it only earned him a clap on his back, urging him upward.

“Hey!” Dean snapped before directing his voice to his brother. “Just go, Sammy. We’ll be okay.” Lie. Dean just knew this wasn’t going to end well.

He figured whoever this man was would take them to the captain and then they’d be killed. Even if they got away, there was nowhere for them to go. Jumping overboard would only land them in the sea and although both could swim, they wouldn’t have the stamina to swim until they found land. Not after the amount of time they’d already been at sea with the little food they’d eaten.

Dean followed the man up to the deck above, he was waiting with Sam in his grip when he clambered over the edge of the hatch.

“Come on.” He ordered, taking Dean roughly by the arm and shoving him forward.

It was dark outside when the door was pushed open. Dark and cold, and Dean wasn’t wearing his shirt having given it to Sam. He shivered violently as the cold sunk in.

Another man was waiting outside, he was tall and thick, a scruffy start of a beard dark on his tanned face. He held up a lamp to their two faces, inspecting them.

“Got us some stowaways.” Said the man holding Sam and Dean.

“Throw ‘em in the brig. Tell the Captain in the mornin’.” This new person had a thick accent, one Dean hadn’t heard before. Dean was passed over to him, bound and was marched over to a wooden door that had steps leading downwards. Dean slipped and stumbled as he was rough-housed down the steps only being held up by the man holding his arm.

Another door was opened which led into a barely lit room. A jangle of keys behind Dean made him jump and try to squirm away.

“Ah-ah.” He warned. The barred door opened and Dean was tossed inside. His bound hands didn’t let him break his fall and he landed harshly. The wood scratched at his chest and he could already feel splinters digging into his flesh.

Sam was dragged in moments later, kicking and screaming before a rag was stuffed in his mouth and knotted around his head. There were tears in his eyes as he tried to call out to his brother. He just wanted to be with his brother.

Dean yanked at his bindings, trying to sit up from where he was still in a heap on the floor. It wasn’t working well, but he managed to shuffle himself around so he was facing he door to his cell.

“Hey! Stop, you son of a bitch!” Dean called out to their captors. They both turned at looked to him after finishing tying Sam up.

“Stop? You are on _our_ ship, eating _our_ food and drinking _our_ drinks. You expect us to just let you get away with that?” the plump man threw Sam into his cell and there was a thud as he hit the deck before coming into Dean’s cell. He knelt down in front of him and was so close to his face and Dean could smell the ale on his breath. A finger under his chin lifted his head up and he met the man’s pale eyes, scowling. “Kid thinks we’re stupid, Benny.” He laughed in Dean’s face. Dean crinkled his nose at the sour smell.

Benny gave a laugh. “I know I sure ain’t stupid. Couldn’t say the same to you, Zachariah.” He smirked.

Zachariah patted him on the cheek before announcing that they should finish stocking up before everyone woke in an hour or two.

Sam had fallen asleep in an awkward heap on the floor eventually and Dean followed suit shortly after, body exhausted from everything that had happened.

It felt like forever that they were tied up. Dean was shivering constantly as he watched over Sam through the gap in the cells. It was harder being able to see Sam but not being able to get to him than it was being tied up.

Thuds and bangs could be heard as the other occupants of the ship began to wake. Dean jerked awake, in the couple of hours that he’d been tied up everything ached. He tried his best to sit up, managing to slump himself against the side of the ship awkwardly.

“... Caught two of them early this morning, Captain. Stealing our food, drink and who knows what else they’ve taken.” It was the same voice from last night, the one that belonged to the plump man.

“Thank you, Zachariah.” Another voice replied, it must be the Captain. He sounded friendly enough, perhaps he’d be more lenient than the two others had been last night. Unlikely, but it was worth the dash of hope.

The door opened, Zachariah came in followed by a dark haired man. He was wearing a dark blue jacket with a beige trim along the edge. It didn’t match anybody else’s clothing, in fact, no one’s clothes matched each other. Another man lurked in the doorway, not really paying attention to Dean but watching the dark haired man.

The idea that these people could be pirates was getting clearer and clearer to him and he dreaded to think about it too much.

The captain peered into Dean’s cell, as if inspecting him, scrutinising him and deciding what to do with him. It wasn’t long before Dean knew he’d be doing the same to Sam whom he hadn’t heard from since they were captured and thrown in the cells.

“Get them out and onto the main deck. I’ll decide what to do with them.” He said after a moment of inspecting the two prisoners.

“Yes, Captain.” Zachariah responded and there was a creak as the door to Sam’s cell was open. Dean heard a moan come from his brother as he was taken out and forced to walk back to the main deck.

He was back not a minute later for Dean. Roughly grabbing him by his bound wrists, he pulled him up and shoved him back out the door. Dean gave little resistance; he didn’t see the point.

Dean was forced to his knees beside his brother, he looked to him and could see that there were tear tracks down his cheeks and his face was red and blotchy.

“Sam... It’s alright,” Sam turned his head at his brother’s whispered words. More tears leaked from his eyes and Dean felt his heart drop. There wasn’t anything right now that he could do to comfort his little brother.

If this was his last moments, the last thing he wanted was to see his brother scared and in tears. This wasn’t fair. Dean dropped his head, holding back tears of his own, determined to prove that he was strong.

“So, tell me,” The Captain sauntered towards Dean, standing close to him. Dean kept his head down. Refused to speak. “What _are_ you doing on my ship?”

Dean didn’t say a word, just kept his gaze to the deck. He could see Sam shift uncomfortably to his right before he too dropped his head, just like Dean.

The man Dean saw lurking in the doorway moved to speak to the captain, he whispered some words to him before they both straightened up and returned to where they were before, with the younger one looking a little uneasy.

“Let the younger one speak.” The captain ordered and Dean saw one of the men begin to untie the rag. Once it was untied, the captain directed the same question to him.

“I’ll give you an option: don’t tell me what you’re doing here and I’ll cast you over the side or tell me exactly why you’re here and I can be more lenient.” He offered, the man he spoke to furrowed his brow momentarily but his expression cleared.

 _That doesn’t mean you still won’t kill us_ , Dean thought.

“We...” Sam started, voice hoarse from lack of use.

“Sam, don’t.” Dean warned.

“They’re gonna kill us, Dean.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Dean told him, he shifted his knees slightly, relieving himself from kneeling on a small stone that was on the deck.

“Oh,” the captain chipped in. “You’re going to escape? How exactly are you going to do that? Jump over the side? You’ll be doing my job for me if you do.” He said coldly, his intense blue eyes boring into him as if he could see his soul.

“Our father was killed by some men, they chased after us. We only wanted to get away.” Sam announced quickly. Dean growled.

“Shut up, Sammy. I got this.”

“So, Sammy,” the captain tested.

“It’s Sam. Only he gets to call me that.” Sam butted in, scowling.

“Alright then. Sam, and you’re Dean?” Dean still didn’t say anything. He just wished his brother would shut the hell up so he could handle it. “Talkative, aren’t you? So, your father was killed and you decided that you’d hide on our ship?”

Sam nodded enthusiastically.

“Do you know a man by the name of Azazel?” Dean asked suddenly.

“Yes. Spiteful man. I’ve had unfortunate dealings with him before.” He recalled, expression of disgust plain on his face.

“Yeah, so have we. He killed our father and he wanted to sell us for the money our dad owed him, but we ran from him and his two followers.”

“Very well. I’m going to offer you something; you’ll be wise to accept.”

At this, Dean looked up.

“You join this ship as part of my crew.” He stated. There was a mumble of confusion.

“Brother?” said one of the pirates, he was a shorter man with growing hair and eyes that looked gold in the morning light. He didn’t particularly look like his brother, if that’s what they even were.

“Quiet, Gabriel.” He warned, there was something in the captain’s eyes though, pleading. The other pirates had been expecting an execution of the prisoners. Not for them to be let off.

“What? You’re not going to kill us?” inquired Dean.

“No.” He said simply with no explanation.

“Who even are you? What pirate would let us go free?” the words were out his mouth before he even knew what he was saying.

“Are you questioning my choices? _I_ do not kill for pleasure, Dean. I do it out of necessity. You look like you have promise. Don’t get me wrong, you _will_ be severely punished for boarding this ship without my permission.” He explained, bending down and picking Dean’s head up with a finger. He searched Dean’s green eyes for a hidden answer. He saw defiance and concern.

“Ten lashes to the both of you. Then the little one can seek his duties in the galley with Gabriel and you, Dean, can start scrubbing this ship clean.”

Dean’s stomach dropped. They couldn’t hurt Sammy. Not after all he’d done to protect him. He clenched his jaw with a defiant: “No.”

“No? I will not have you disobeying me.” He chastised.

“Don’t hurt him. He’s my little brother. Don’t hurt him.” Dean stumbled to his feet despite the hands to his shoulders trying to keep him kneeling. He stepped forward. “He’s just fifteen. Please don’t hurt my little brother.”

The captain frowned, considering. “You are a righteous young man.” he told him quietly as if he wanted no one else to hear.

 _Righteous... huh_... Dean had never thought of himself as righteous before, he was just looking after his little brother, exactly as he’d been told to by his father day in and day out.

“ _Please_.” Dean begged. He would take the punishment for the both of them as long as his brother remained unharmed. He knew Sam would protest to such heroic measures but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to stand by and watch his little brother receive ten lashes for something Dean told him to do. “I told him to board this ship. He was only doing what I told him to do. I’m only trying to keep him safe. He’s – he’s all I have left.” Dean ranted.

The captain seemed suddenly torn in his decision, he had that look back in his eye, he should ignore his prisoner, complete his own orders and have them both punished. Dean couldn’t be that much older, maybe eighteen or so. It didn’t settle right either within himself to harm a child. Not one that’s been through enough as it was by what Dean had been saying. He knew what it was like to see someone so young be punished like that.

“You’re a lucky man, Dean.” He said low in his ear, stepping into his personal space.

“Ten lashes to the older one. The child shall remain unharmed.” He announced to the rest of the pirates who yelled and cheered for the upcoming punishment. It was barbaric, inhumane.

“My name is Captain Castiel Novak. These men – and woman – you see before you are my crew. You will respect each and every one of us, no questions asked.” He told them. So that was his name. It sounded familiar. Perhaps Sam could place it, he was much better at remembering all the stuff that their father told them about pirates.

Sam’s wrists were unbound and he rubbed the sore patches where the rope had burned his skin. The man they knew was Gabriel approached him and led him to the side as Dean was escorted to one of the wooden beams and his hands were tied outwards to each side.

“Dean...” Sam choked out, making a step towards him. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Don’t.” Gabriel warned. “Come on, I’ll take you to the galley. You don’t need to see this.”

“No!” Sam cried out, arms reaching for his brother.

“Sam! It’s okay. I promise it’s okay. You’re safe.” Dean shouted at him, neck craning round to make eye contact.

“Dean, no...” Sam trailed off and he felt himself be led away as he heard the first crack and yell from his brother.


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel took Sam to the ship’s galley, opening the door and setting him up on one of the wooden counters. He could still hear the sounds of his brother receiving his punishment.

“Your brother must love you a lot to take your punishment for you.” Gabriel told him, Sam nodded solemnly, hiccupping and letting fat tears run down his face. “Chin up, let me wipe your face and we’ll get you a warm drink.”

“I don’t get it,” Sam commented out of the blue, voice rough from crying.

“What don’t you get?”

“Why you didn’t just kill us both when you found us? That’s what normally happens when stowaways are found on ships. Especially pirate ships.” Sam said, explaining what he’d heard from his father.

“You’re a smart boy, Sam. Cassie has a heart. We all do, but his is just _extra_ big. He doesn’t kill someone without good reason to.”

“But he’s still up there hurting him.” Sam’s voice came out as more of a whine that he expected.

“I said he had a heart, he’s also fair. He’s my younger brother, I know him. We keep to our father’s rules,” he began before sliding in, “ _Raphael_ makes sure of _that_ ,” Gabriel ran a warmed wet rag over Sam’s tear marked face before continuing. “The ones he set when he handed the ship over to Castiel when he died. Our father knew that Cassie could take good care of the ship, there was five of us. Raphael, Lucifer, myself and Castiel. We knew Castiel would get the ship. He was the favourite.” Gabriel explained. Sam was taken aback by the way he talked about favourites having expected it to come out more bitter than it did.

“You only mentioned four of you. Who did you miss? Are – are they dead?” Sam trailed off quietly. He didn’t mention the offhanded, low comment.

“Look, Sam, as much as I’ve told you, there’s some things we don’t like to talk about.” Gabriel informed him shortly.

“Both of our parents are dead.” Sam told him without a second thought. “Dean said I was only six months old when someone took a torch to our house and killed mom. Dad doesn’t – didn’t – like to talk about it much.”

“I’m sorry, Sam.” He said sincerely.

“Do you know if Dean’s gonna be okay?” Sam asked, changing the subject.

“He’ll be fine. Knowing Cassie, he’ll have stopped after five. _Too much heart_ is what people say about him.” Gabriel smiled and helped a now clean faced Sam off the counter and back onto his feet.

Castiel ceased the lashing after five harsh hits, he could see the blood running down the man’s back after the third stroke and it broke his heart to see the marks he’d made on such a young person. He was glad Gabriel had taken the initiative and led Sam away where he couldn’t watch. He only hoped that he couldn’t hear his older brother scream. He’d been there before. It wasn’t something he wanted to relive and he hated doing this, but it was his father’s orders that Raphael liked to keep on top of, and he’d do well to obey them even though their father had been dead for four years.

“Garth, let Benny and Zachariah take him down to your compartment and you can patch him up.” Castiel ordered, curling up the whip in his hands and wiping the blood of the end with a rag.

Dean yelped as his hands were unbound and looped around the shoulders of the men who’d thrown him in a jail cell not so long ago. His bare feet barely touched the deck as he was taken inside. Tears, unbidden and unnoticed, left tracks down his cheeks, leaving behind a certain cleanliness from the grime he’d picked up from not washing for days.

“Please...” Dean whimpered. He didn’t know what he was pleading for – for them to stop, for everything to stop, for mercy - it was all that was on his mind. He bit hard on his lip to hide his pain even though it showed plain on his tear marked face, in the droop of his eyelids, the slur of his words. There was no way for Dean to truly hide the pain he was in. He mumbled incoherently about nothing, could barely hold himself up as the two men either side of him took all his weight. His back was in so much pain that it seemed to feel as numb as ice. His stomach roiled, worse than it ever had before and he was sure he was going to throw up.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice filtered through the haziness.

“Stay away. I’m okay.” He rasped as he was taken into a room and the door was shut after Garth entered. There was no way he was letting his brother see him like this. He glimpsed Sam, wide eyed, being taken back into the room he came out of.

Benny and Zachariah lay him onto his front on the low bed in the centre of the room. It had a couple of sheets on, making it thankfully softer. Dean remained as still as he could, not wanting to jostle his wounds.

“Dean.” Garth’s voice had a sense of authority to it that reminded him of his dad’s friend. “I’m going to clean all the blood off your back now.” Dean barely nodded and there was a cold sensation and a hell of a lot of pain. He cried out instinctively before clamping his eyes shut and biting his lip to keep any more sounds at bay.

Garth kept working, ignoring Dean’s cries, cleaning the wounds with the salt water before asking Dean to sit up slowly so he could paste on an antiseptic and bandage them up. He wrapped the white bandages around his back and chest carefully watching the expressions of the man in front of him.

He left Dean for a moment before returning with a tankard.

“Drink this. It’ll help with the pain.” Dean looked inside the tankard and saw a dark liquid filling it to just under half full.

“What is it?” Dean smelt it and turned his nose up at the strangeness.

“Whiskey. Don’t think about it too much. Just get it down your gullet and you’ll feel alright in a couple of minutes.”

Dean did just that and tipped the tankard back, swallowing the liquid in just a couple of gulps. It burned his throat and made his stomach turn sour. For a fleeting moment he was convinced he was going to throw it back up but it seemed to settle quickly.

Just as Garth told him, his head soon felt woozy and stuffy.

“Wha’ di’ you do t’ me?” He slurred, swaying a little where he sat, tongue feeling thick.

“It’s okay. It does that to you until you’re a bit more used to it. I doubt you’ve eaten much either recently.” Garth grabbed his shoulders before he toppled over and got him to lie down on his side. Dean slept.

Sam helped Gabriel out in the galley, he chopped up vegetables up for a stew that would be their evening meal and added them to an oversized pot. Gabriel added fancy herbs and spices that Sam had never heard of but curiously learned all the names of.

“Do you put meat in here too? How do you keep it on the ship?” the curious fifteen-year-old bubbled with questions. Gabriel just smiled.

“No meat today. And we get meat when we go into ports, coat it in salt and store it. Or when... you know.”

“Or when you steal it from other ships.” Sam said quietly.

“Yeah. We’re not bad pirates. We just do what we do to keep on living and if that involves boarding another ship to get more food and equipment then so be it.” Gabriel stated, he’d stopped grinding some small black pellets to gauge Sam’s reaction. It hadn’t changed, he just looked interested and curious.

“Chuck them in here and I expect Garth’s finished with your brother now. You can probably go and see him.” Sam smiled, hope filling his eyes. He quickly picked up the florets of white vegetable and let them fall into the pot. He scooted round Gabriel, still a little wary, and was out the door and knocking on the next room along where he’d seen his brother get taken earlier.

Someone inside shouted for him to come in and he opened the door slowly, suddenly wary of what he’d find.

Dean was sleeping on a low bed and his torso was bound in bandages so he couldn’t see the damage. He seemed to look okay which was all Sam needed right then.

“Hey, De,” Sam greeted, kneeling down on the deck. He reached out and held Dean’s fingers and saw how his wrists were already bruising. He ran a cold finger gently along it, hoping he wasn’t hurting him more.

Dean’s eyes cracked open a little and he was glad that there was only one oil lamp in the room as his head was pounding.

“I thought that stuff was supposed to help. I feel worse now.” Dean announced to who Sam guessed was Garth.

“Yeah, well it got you to sleep for a couple of hours which is what you needed.” Dean sighed and smiled at Sam.

“Did you at least have fun while I was out?” Dean turned his attention to his brother.

Sam shook his head. “I could hear you screaming Dean, he was hurting you so bad. Gabriel talked to me though.” He said sadly. Dean’s hand came up and stroked through Sam’s hair. “You know Castiel is the youngest of his brothers.”

“He has brothers?”

“Yeah,” Garth chipped in. “I’m the youngest on the ship though. Apart from you, Sam.”

“Gabriel told me lots about his family cause Gabriel’s his older brother and there’s a five of them but there’s one they don’t talk about or something. And Castiel is only twenty and he got the ship when he was sixteen. That’s just a year older than me. I couldn’t imagine that at all. I don’t like him though.” Sam rushed, it made his brother laugh which Dean regretted doing.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed under his breath, the pain he thought was dissipating bubbled to the surface again like a rekindled fire.  Sam gasped, taking his hands away.

“Sorry.”

“Nope. Not your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s the fault of that asshole captain.” Dean said quietly, he furrowed his brow to try and rid the ache in his head but nothing he did seemed to quell it.

“This asshole Captain?” Castiel said, stepping into the room.

“Yeah, you.” Dean snipped.

“Why did you have to do that?” Sam stood up and pushed at Castiel but he stood strong making Sam’s efforts look futile. “Why did you hurt him? You didn’t have to hurt him!”

“Sammy... what’s done is done.” Dean tried to get in, he wasn’t convinced he’d heard him.

“Sam, there are rules that have to be obeyed.” Castiel was holding onto Sam’s shoulders, effectively stopping him from hitting him.

“You’re horrible. You hurt my brother.” Sam whimpered and broke free from his grip.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I really am.” Sam could hear that he was, he could hear the remorse, practically see it course through his body. It didn’t make him like Castiel any more at that moment though and he sat back with his brother and took his fingers back into his own.

“I’m not going to talk to you.” Sam told Castiel.

Dean smiled. “You defending me there, buddy?”

Sam scowled and sat firm.

“Are you okay, Dean? I really wish I didn’t have to do that.” Castiel asked and Dean nodded, not particularly agreeing, but perhaps just understanding – if just a little. He’d seen what he assumed to be his eldest brother speaking to him and worked out what could be going on. Castiel moved over to a set of shelves and pulled a blanket down. Unfolding it, he laid it over Dean with a gentleness he didn’t expect, not after he’d suffered under his harsh hands not so long ago. “I have some easier tasks you can do while you heal up. Do you have any particular skills?”

“I used to help my dad fixing all the broken carts that came into our shop.”

“He can fight real good too, dad even taught him how to use a gun once!” Sam added excitedly, breaking his vow not to talk. Dean wasn’t surprised. Sam could talk for hours if you let him.

“And what about you, Sam? What are you good at?” Sam shut his mouth. Not willing to talk to him now.

“He can read and write real well. And dad started teaching him to fight before he got ill and then I helped him out a bit. He’s pretty swish with a short sword. Dad reckoned he’d grow taller soon,” Dean told him.

“Well that’s good. Not everyone on this ship can read and write.  I can teach you both to sword fight if you wish. My brother probably won’t approve but I’m sure he’ll live.” Castiel commented. “You rest up until tomorrow in here, Dean. I’ll find you some better clothes too, can’t have you wandering the ship topless.”

“What about Sam?”

“Of course he’ll get clothes too, we may have to stop at a port and buy some though as I don’t think anyone will have anything small enough.” Castiel told him. Sam was glad, he refrained from showing it but he was definitely glad to be ridding of the pyjamas he’d been wearing for the past two weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam was given a hammock and was shown where he could hang it. Gabriel handed him some temporary clothes that didn’t fit all that well and he slipped them on, turning up the trousers and the sleeves of the warm jacket. He felt more relaxed with the warmth and he climbed into his hammock despite it only being mid-afternoon and slept, a blanket pulled up to his chin.

He woke to someone shaking his shoulder.

“De?” He asked instinctively and groggy from sleep.

“Yeah, it’s me buddy. Gabriel wants your help in the kitchen again, we’re eating soon.”

“I _am_ hungry.”

“You’re always hungry. Here, let me help you out.” Dean offered, he turned down the side of the hammock to make it easier for Sam to jump down. It made his back stretch but he refrained from letting the pain show.

They both headed to the galley, Dean with his arm slung over Sam’s shoulders, protective as usual. It was hard work, his body stiff and stilted with residual pain but he worked himself through it.  

Gabriel greeted them cheerily and gave Sam a couple of tasks to do, get the crockery and cutlery out and to the table in the mess.

Everyone ate together, with just one pirate out on deck to man the ship. It was Castiel who took his food to Dean which surprised him a little, having expected Castiel to be sat at the head of the table and just waiting to be served.

Dean eventually found a space after being told several times that where he was sat was someone else’s seat. So he retreated to the edge and waiting for everyone to sit before sitting down in a spare seat right at the end of the table.

It was loud when Gabriel entered with a big vat of the stew that he and Sam had been making. A portion was dumped into the bowl in front of him and he heard Sam listing off the ingredients that morning. Carrots, _collar flower_ – whatever that was – and a host of other vegetables he hadn’t heard of before.  He dipped his spoon in and scooped up a mouthful and lost himself in the different tastes of the vegetables. It was good, filling and comforting. Sam had joined him as soon as Gabriel had finished with serving.

“Good, right?” Sam supplied. Dean nodded, shoving another spoonful in his mouth and savouring all the different flavours. “There’s so much more to it than the one dad made. Gabriel said we have meat tomorrow when we go into a port. We’re not leaving the ship though. Apparently it’s a pirate port and since we’re not pirates yet we shouldn’t go in case someone decides to ‘have their way with us’.” Sam quoted and gave Dean a confused look as if asking him to explain. Dean didn’t indulge him, not wanting to scare him, he’d find out one day when he was older.

“What do you mean not pirates yet? We’re not pirates, never will be.”

“You’ve got to be a pirate if you’re on a pirate ship, Dean.” Sam told him as if it was the obvious conclusion. “Gabriel said there was a ceremony or something. He didn’t go into too much detail though. He just mentioned it.”

“But we’re not pirates, Sammy. We don’t belong here.”

“What do you mean? We have to stay here. The captain said so.” Sam looked at Dean with a squint.

“We still don’t belong here. Remember what we said when we first got on here? That we’d get off at the first port we came to and start a new life.” Sam nodded slowly.

“You should talk to the Captain.” Sam suggested. He put his spoon in his bowl and stood up, following suit of some of the other pirates. He collected the bowls from the people who’d finished and took them back to the galley just like Gabriel had asked him to.

Dean stayed at the table. He fished the rest of the food around the dish, suddenly uninterested.

“You should eat that, you know.” Dean started as Castiel sat beside him.

“I’m not all that hungry.” Dean sighed. He dropped his spoon and it clattered loudly in the now quiet room. “Look, me and Sam, we don’t belong here. We’re not pirates or seafarers, we’ve only ever been on a ship once and that was to get to where we used to live. I barely remember it. We’re land people.”

“I get that. But I did make you a deal. Which, may I add, you accepted.” Castiel told him. Dean shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, the captain was sat too close to him.

“Are you sure it wasn’t Raphael that made that deal?” Dean snipped.

“Dean.” He warned. “Raphael asked me to kill you, no questions asked. I told him I wouldn’t do that, at least not without asking questions first.”

“Why would you do that?” Dean questioned. His dad had always told them stories about bloodthirsty pirates who’d kill you on the spot just because you looked at them funny, told them that they shouldn’t be crossed. And now, with Azazel to hold to the murder of their father Dean had believed his every word.

“I’m not a bad person, Dean. You have a good heart, looking after and defending your brother like you did.” Dean blushed at the kind words. He knew he’d done it but it was different when someone said it out loud. “I meant what I said before: You’re a righteous man.” The man looked at him, perhaps a moment too long, it wasn’t like Dean could take his gaze away either. “Take your dish away and go find Charlie, she’ll teach you how to navigate.”

“She? Isn’t it unlucky to have a woman on the ship?” Dean wondered.  It was in every story he’d been told as a kid. Women wreaking havoc and doing injustices.

“Perhaps. Not happened so far though, she’s been on this ship for about two years now.” Castiel told him with a shrug. He stood and directed Dean to the hatch that joined the galley and the mess. Dean placed his plate, shouting out to his little brother that there was another plate to be cleaned.

Charlie was an interesting character, she spoke animatedly about the different sea charts they had and the ones they were working on. She explained what their aim was. Apparently there was an island somewhere where there was a paradise, or so they’d been told. It wasn’t marked on any map that they currently had and there were several inked amendments on the ones they did have, detailing small Islands and rocky outcrops in the middle of the sea and by larger islands. There were blue inked writings on the places they had visited, saying what was there and if it were pirate friendly or not. As nice of a bunch they were, they were still pirates.

“So you’re kinda like explorers?” Dean suggested.

“Yes... and no... We want to find the paradise island the most. The other islands we found or find different to our maps are just coincidence.” She explained and shuffled the large parchment sheets around to find a different one. “There’s something peculiar about this map though. See here,” Charlie pointed out a faint marking on the page. It was if it had been stamped there with dusty ink and had worn away over the years. He could barely see it and squinted a little. “It’s something. We don’t know what, we think it’s like a face or something.” Charlie looked over to Dean. He bent over the map, looking close and letting a finger brush over the very slight raised areas. “... Something that looks like your pendant.” She added quietly. Her hands were drawn towards Dean’s necklace but he pulled back before she could take it.

The pendant had simply been a gift from his brother, it didn’t have a huge amount of meaning at the time but over the years Dean had never taken it off and never really thought much about it. It was more of a comfort now more than anything.

“What? Hey!” He scorned, hitting her hand away.

“Captain!” She yelled, leaning over the side of the higher ledge where they navigated and steered the ship from. “I found something to do with the paradise island!” Dean put his hand over the amulet protectively. He saw Castiel dashing elegantly across the deck and up the steps.

“Charlie, what did you find?” He asked only a little breathless. He went over to where Charlie was now leaning against the chart desk.

“Look,” She pointed to Dean who still had his hand clasped over the amulet keeping it from view. “Dean, show him.” She told him.

Dean didn’t want to, it was his. He didn’t want them to take it, but he opened his hand and showed them. The captain came up close to Dean and held the pendant for himself despite it still being around Dean’s neck. The leather string tugged on his skin a little and he could feel Castiel’s breath whisper by. He felt awkward and unsure of what to do in such close proximity.

He nudged him away, coughing a little, cheeks heating a little. “Personal space, dude.”

Castiel merely looked on in confusion.

“You were too close to me,” Dean elaborated, he rubbed his arm and stepped back.

“I am sorry,” He stated. It didn’t sound very apologetic.

Just then, Raphael came up to join them Dean groaned inwardly knowing it could only mean trouble.

“You say you found something on the island?” He asked. Castiel huffed and nodded, showing him the chart.

“And the faint image that we’ve been seeing on this map is the same shape and image that’s on Dean’s amulet.” Castiel concluded. Raphael turned to Dean, eyes wide.

He held Dean’s shoulder and just as Dean was about to protest he grabbed hold of the pendant and yanked it hard. Dean stumbled forward at the force and the amulet’s leather cord broke. He rubbed his neck, soothing it.

“I’ll be taking that.” Raphael said sharply, balling the leather cord in his hand. He turned back to his brother. How these two could be brothers he’d never know, perhaps they were born of different mothers. “We go to Restless Bay and talk to that psychic. She’ll know what to do about this.”

“Raphael, give it back to Dean.” Castiel demanded.

“No, this belongs to us now. You’ll do better to remember what you are, brother. Pirates take what they need and take what they want; if people get hurt in the process then so be it.” He growled and stalked off. Dean felt bare and stripped of any emotion. The look on Castiel’s face said the same. Charlie danced awkwardly from foot to foot as if trying to ignore what had just happened.

A shiver shot down Dean’s spine and as much as he tried to conceal it, it still shook his body and smarted his healing wounds. Castiel glanced over at Dean.

“Charlie, take Dean to get some clothing from Gabriel.” He said automatically. Charlie stood upright from where she had been leaning against the table and took hold of Dean’s arm, dragging him from where he was stood stock still in shock.

“Come on,” She encouraged. Dean followed her blindly through the ship, just one foot in front of the other as they made their way back to the galley.

Gabriel was chatting to Sam. He sat up on the counter so he was eye level with him. He told him stories about previous encounters with various pirates and the navy. The different islands they’d been to and explored. Sam was staring, open mouthed and locked within the tale when they entered.

“Gabriel? Dean needs some proper clothes. The Captain said you’d have something for him.” She said before leaving the room.

Dean perked up with Sam in the room, almost as if the encounter with Raphael hadn’t happened. Gabriel stopped storytelling and they both looked to Dean.

“Hey, Sam,” He started.  “You been doing alright in here?”

Sam nodded and launched off the counter and into Dean’s arms. He wrapped his arms around the smaller boy and hugged him tight.

“What happened to your amulet?” Sam’s voice was muffled against Dean’s shoulder. Of course Sam would notice. He’d never taken it off since the day he got it eight years ago. It was easy to notice it had gone.

“Raphael took it. Believed it can help him find that damn island they’re searching for.” He grumbled solemnly.

“Oh. Is he gonna give it back to you?” Dean hoped he would. Now that it wasn’t on him, he realised how much sentimental value it had. He shrugged and hoped Sam got the message.

“Dean, take these.” Gabriel said handing some clothes to him. He hadn’t even noticed that Gabriel had left the room and come back again. He took the clothes without a word. “Come on, kid.” He said to Sam. “We’ll give you room to change and we’ll meet you back in the mess.”

They left the room and Dean shuffled into his clothes. A thin t-shirt, which didn’t seem to aggravate the still fresh wounds on his back, thick trousers and a pair of boots that were a little too big. He’d been left a jacket too, simple and brown, no fancy trims or buttons. He was glad for that, he didn’t need to be dressed up, just wanted simplicity like he used to wear.

He went along the corridor and into the mess area. It was nice in there, he decided. It seemed homelier, a common area for everyone, the atmosphere had been good here too. It would be better if the others wanted to talk to him, not that he was too bothered, he had Sam.

He saw them, and some of the other crew filling up tankards and swigging drinks when he entered.

“Look at you, looking like a pirate now.” Gabriel cheered. Everyone else in the room seemed to look to before returning to their conversations.

“I just look like me, Gabriel. Thanks for the clothes though.” Dean said with a breath.

“Don’t mention it.” He said shortly. “I’m going to talk to my brother.” And with that he left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

That night, Dean was given a spare hammock and he strung it up next to Sam’s. After a long day it was all Dean wanted to have a decent sleep, the whiskey induced sleep couldn’t be counted, that had been unexpected and he’d been in pain.

He removed his jacket and the soft shirt, and toed off his boots, leaving them in a pile next to his brother’s. He peered over the edge of Sam’s hammock to find him bundled up in a blanket and fast asleep.

“Goodnight, Sammy.” He whispered before hauling himself into his own and wrapping his blanket around him, sealing himself off from the cooling room.

Despite his exhaustion, it took forever for Dean to sleep. He heard some of the others come in and retire to their own hammocks. It fell quiet and all Dean could hear was light snoring and the ripples of the water chirping against the side of the ship. He tied to shuffle himself in his hammock but it only caused him pain and he had to hold back a hiss in case anyone heard him.

Finally, Dean slept.

It was another seven and a half days of Sam helping Gabriel – or Benny – out in the galley before he saw land again. The times he had to work with Benny were done in silence. Still, he hadn’t forgiven neither him nor Zachariah for throwing them around when they were caught. Gabriel often gave a hand to Castiel when he needed it, tried to shield him as best he could from Raphael’s strictness.

Raphael would do what their father had done to the letter and wouldn’t let Castiel forget it. Gabriel made sure to keep Castiel on the right track, his own track, rather than Raphael’s rocky rails.

Dean had spotted the large port on the outskirts of the volcanic island, it seemed to be shrouded in a smoky mist that hovered and lingered and made the place look dark.

Getting closer, Dean was almost excited that he’d be able to put feet on dry land again after nearly four weeks on ship; at least until he remembered that they were going to a pirate port and that they shouldn’t go in case they were taken.

Sam had been intrigued by what Gabriel had told them about the port they were going to. Dean had come into the room at the right time. Gabriel had said how he had a woman there named Kali who he liked to hook up with. Sam had giggled at the thought. And laughed more at Gabriel’s dreamy expression as he described her.

He’d also explained how they had to be a pirate for them to go into the port. That there were specific pirates who, if they didn’t know you, checked to make sure. Then when Sam casually asked if they could make them pirates just to go on land, Gabriel had laughed loudly, though it wasn’t like Sam knew any better, even Dean didn’t know.

“All pirates have some sort of initiation which is proving your worth to the ship; there’s no point you being here if you ain’t gonna be useful. There are also rules to be obeyed in the pirate world, you know.” Gabriel told them. Dean frowned, looking sceptical.  “Oh, come on; we’re not barbaric savages.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it. What are these rules?” Dean wondered, frown still present.

“The four rules, reasons if you will, to being a pirate differ from ship to ship. On this ship: Loyalty, Family, Obedience and Discipline. The Archangel is captained by a Novak, and it is a family ship, so as long as this ship is captained by a Novak the rules won’t change. Raphael is a firm believer in that, unfortunately, he follows our father’s old rules to the letter without a second thought. Perhaps even more so.

“Obedience and discipline is why Castiel gave you your punishment, he had to play by our rules. It just so happens that Cassie has a good heart and didn’t listen to our merciless brother about giving it to both of you when you disagreed.”

“And then there’s this,” Gabriel lifted the corner of his shirt up to reveal thin, neat black lines. Four of them, three horizontal and evenly space and the other vertical, and centrally cutting the other three lines. “The mark of The Archangel. A tattoo, it marks you having proved your worth and ties you to a specific ship, if you change ships for whatever reason, the old tattoo is covered and a new one is given. I wouldn’t suggest going through the process more than once though. It’s not the most favourable of experiences.”

At this, Sam’s face contorted into an expression of horror, eyes wide and standing still. Dean laughed.

“Chill, Sammy. We’re not doing it.” He assured him.

“... Yet...” Sam whispered. It seemed he wanted to be a pirate, which Dean couldn’t quite understand. Sure, most of the pirates on this ship seemed nice, but they hadn’t seen them when they’re trying to steal goods off another ship, and Raphael was a piece of work too.

Castiel came up to them before anymore could be said and told them to man their positions and they readied to dock to the side of the port.

“Dean, keep yourself and your brother out of the way.” Castiel instructed coldly.

With the large ship docked, Castiel appointed Zachariah to stay alert for anyone boarding the ship.

Castiel followed his older brother off the ship, heading to see the psychic. The roads were well worn and undulating and Raphael and Castiel navigated them with ease as they’d been there several times before.

Eventually, they reached a low shop front. The outside was decorated in ancient wards that most people had never seen or heard of, Castiel had asked before what they were but the woman who owned the place never answered.

Pamela was an intense but friendly woman. She was a psychic by trade and was known to do spell casting upon paid request and offered her services to the pirates visiting the island. She had spent most of her life on a pirate ship before settling down in the small shop after she was blinded.

Raphael greeted her with a nod and instantly took to explaining what they had.

“I found this amulet that depicts the same face that I’ve seen on the charts we are using to find the paradise island. Do you think it’s linked?” He asked. Castiel stood at his side but didn’t say anything. He should. He should be the one taking the lead on this. This was one of his father’s wishes that he would honour.

Pamela stood from where she had been sat behind a small desk dressing beads into particular patterns, it seemed precise considering her blank white eyes could no longer see.

“And what do I get in return?” She wondered.

“We have two stowaways, we’ll give them to you and you can sell them or use them.” Raphael suggested, lip curling into a smirk. Pamela hummed an interest.

“No.” Castiel retorted. He turned on his brother. He wasn’t having any of this. Raphael had enough control over him as it was, he wasn’t about to let him have any more. “Those two are to remain on _my_ ship. Do not try to hand them to anybody. Do you understand me?” He stepped into his brother’s space and scowled at him not minding that he was seven years his senior and several inches taller.

“We can give you gold, we’ll make a deal as to how much you want.” Castiel concluded, turning his attention back to Pamela.

She nodded. “Alright.” She held out her hand for the amulet and Raphael hesitated for a moment. Pamela stepped closer to him and raised her eyebrow. “Do you want my help or not?”

Raphael handed it over to her and she felt it roughly, tracing the contours and the shape of the small metallic amulet trying to get a picture in her head of what it looked like.

“And you’re saying that this is the same as the one you’ve seen on the map?” she confirmed.

Castiel nodded before remembering her blindness. “Yes. We believe so.”

“A location spell should work, it will latch on to any potential magic within the amulet and lead you to where you need to go. It will glow hot the closer you get.” Pamela explained. She took herself over to a small round table and sat on the only chair. Feeling for a black wooden chest on the floor by her feet she opened it and took out five candles. Placing them specifically on the table in a pentagram shape she draw chalk lines to match them up before putting an empty bowl in the centre.

In the bowl Castiel watched as she tossed some unidentified bones in there followed by stems of certain flowers and herbs.

“Captain Novak, pass me your hand.” She instructed. Castiel knew what she wanted to do and stepped forward somewhat tentatively before putting his hand palm up in hers. She drew a short silver blade from the box and sliced his hand letting the blood drip over the contents. She let go of him and Castiel fisted his hand to stem the bleeding.

Pamela began to whisper harsh foreign words while holding the amulet over the dish. Tendrils of white smoke rose from the concoction and the amulet began to heat up. Castiel could see it glowing red hot but it was odd to him how it didn’t burn through the thin leather cord it was threaded onto.

It stopped. Pamela ceased speaking and there wasn’t any more smoke. The amulet returned to what it originally looked like.

“It’s done. Just hold it out on the leather cord and it will lean to one direction as if it were being blown by a breeze. When you get closer it will begin to glow hot.” She explained and stood up. “Now, for my payment.”

Castiel reached into his jacket undoing the four gold buttons of if navy blue coat and took out a cloth bag full of gold coins.

“One hundred and fifty gold. Will that suffice?” Castiel wondered holding out the bag as he waited for her to answer.

“Two hundred.” She bartered.

“One hundred and seventy-five,” He haggled.

“Ah-ah. Two hundred.”

“Pamela…” Castiel said, tone warning.

“Captain…” She said back just as sternly, raising her brow. If Castiel were honest, Pamela made him uneasy, despite her friendliness. He’d met her a few times with his father when he was a child. Her charms had always intrigued him but she was a scary lady when she wanted to be.

“Fine.” Castiel agreed and added another fifty gold from another bag into the first one.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Captain.” Pamela came forward and took Castiel’s chin in her hands and kissed him. Castiel blushed, thankful she couldn’t see.

“Don’t blush. You’re an attractive man, Captain.” Obviously she had an inkling for these things; Castiel put it down to her psychic and magic abilities.

“Thank you for your help.” Castiel said and began to turn. Raphael seemed stiff and annoyed at the lack of attention she had paid him during the visit that was his idea in the first place.

Raphael left first, deciding to head to a nearby tavern to get a drink, something different to what they had on board.

Once he’d left Castiel was about to follow when Pamela caught his wrist in her grip.

“You shouldn’t let him control you so much. Listen to Gabriel more if you need guidance. I believe your eldest brother to have bad intentions for you.” She told him, eyes narrowed.

“Oh, uh, thanks... I guess.” He stuttered. She didn’t let go of him though. He knew this, but he had no choice but to listen to his eldest brother.

“Keep those boys safe, Captain. The two stowaways you were fighting about. Keep them safe.” She added mysteriously, before letting him go. Castiel acknowledged her words with a nod and a mumble and left her shop deep in thought.

He saw Raphael in the distance heading into the busy looking tavern, it didn’t surprise him really.  He left him to it, expecting him to be back sometime the next morning when they can set sail and head out for the island.

Castiel decided to head back to the ship, he could at least go and tell Sam and Dean what was happening and tell Dean how important the amulet was. Maybe it could settle him a little, seeing as he was still very defensive about being on the ship.


	7. Chapter 7

Garth never left the ship, claiming that he didn’t have anything to do in Restless Bay so he kindly kept Dean and Sam company and out of the way. He introduced them to dice games of different variations, both boys picked it up quickly and with skill having played other gambling games with their father. The methods were similar and despite Sam’s young age he managed to beat Dean and Garth a fair few times.

They were just about to start playing with some silver coins that Garth gave them when Castiel came back on the ship.

“Evening, Captain.” Garth greeted with a nod. Dean didn’t say anything. Dean turned the dice in his hands.

“Evening, you all okay?” He wondered.

“Just playing some dice.”

“Dean? Sam?” he added expectantly.

“Yeah. We’re good.” Dean answered shortly and threw his dice on the makeshift table, a large pail upturned.

“Dean, your amulet is going to work and find this island. That’s good. We’re grateful you gave it to us.” Castiel told him and smiled a little.

Dean stood up suddenly, the table wobbled and one of the dice rolled onto the deck.

“I didn’t give it to you, your damn brother took it from me!” He bit, teeth clenching and fists balling. He stepped into Castiel’s space and they lined up eye to eye. “He’s controlling you, can’t you see that? I ain’t even been here all that long and even I can see it.”

“Dean...” Castiel spoke quietly. Dean ignored him and snapped his hand away just as Castiel went to reach for him.

Dean exploded. “I don’t want anything to do with you or this place! I just wanted to get away. Get my brother away from the people who killed our dad and tried to kill us. Now I have scars on my back and Sam wants to be a damn pirate. That shouldn’t have happened. You pirates are dirty, dumb savages who don’t know any better. That’s not who he is okay!” Dean’s voice cracked unexpectedly. “We don’t want to be here.”

Dean finished, breathing hard from the yelling and almost hoped that Castiel hadn’t heard his voice break. Castiel’s expression remained unperturbed, and that alone made Dean take a step back. What was stopping Castiel drawing his sword now and killing him? Insulting the pirate captain probably wasn’t the smartest idea.

Castiel’s hands didn’t move though, they stayed by his sides, he barely even blinked but his eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to work out the best way to respond.

“Dean... stop. You should stop before you do something you regret. Go and sleep.” That was it? That was his response to Dean insulting him? “That’s an order, Dean!” Castiel added when Dean didn’t move.

Dean almost wanted to refuse, just out of spite but he found himself backing away from Castiel and turning towards where his bunk was.

He undressed quickly and curled himself up in the blankets. He didn’t sleep, he was anything but tired. All he could see when he closed his eyes were Castiel’s blue eyes as they had stared at him unblinking as Dean lay into him.

“Dean?” Sam’s young voice brought him out from his thoughts and Dean peered over the edge of the material hammock.

“What?” he grumbled.

“Do you really not what to be here?” He asked. “They’re nice people, Dean... not dumb... or savage.”

“They’re not and you know it, Sam. As soon as we hit the next port we’re leaving. We’ll find work, even if it’s cleaning out some rich guy’s stables.” Dean huffed and turned over.  End of conversation.

Sam let it go and climbed into his own bunk, falling asleep almost instantly.

It was in the early hours of the morning when Dean heard the raised voices. He couldn’t really hear what was being said but he recognised that one of the voices belonged to Castiel. The other sounded more slurred, reminding him of how his dad used to sound when he came back from the tavern night after night.

Dean crept out of his bed, careful not to wake any of the other occupants in the room. Walking along the corridor he could see Castiel and his brother yelling at each other on the main deck outside.

Gabriel came up behind Dean, clearing his throat before talking so not to startle Dean.

“They always argue. I don’t know what about, Cassie never tells me, despite the fact I’m supposed to be his first mate, and I’ll never get anything out of Raphael.” He explained in a whisper.

“Oh. He just looks angry and frustrated about something.” Dean mused as he saw Gabriel head towards the galley in his peripheral vision.

“He’s keeping secrets; I think Raph knows but whatever.” Gabriel replied as Dean followed him.

“Do you know when we’ll hit the next port?” Dean asked leaning against the unit in the galley.

“You really want to get off here don’t you?” Gabriel sighed.

“Me and Sam, we don’t belong here. I told as much to Castiel last night.” Dean paused. “He’s creepy calm you know.”

“You yelled at him?” Gabriel asked, he knew his brother. Knew of the creepy calm he meant. The one that happened whenever anyone laid into him. He just managed to tune it out and Gabriel didn’t know where it came from.

“’Course I did. I don’t care for the do or die ideal he’s got, next time we get to a port that ain’t crawlin’ with pirates, we’re off. As long as Sammy gets off safe then it’s fine.”

Gabriel whistled low. “I’d almost say that your brother’s proved his worth with his cooking on this ship. I’m sure with a little more effort from yourself you could do it.”

“No. We’re going to get off this ship whether you like it or not.” Dean countered.

“Fine. He’ll know what you’re planning. He’s not stupid and I am his brother.”

Dean growled and left the room.

It wasn’t long before they were leaving the smoggy Restless Bay and it was merely a dot on the horizon. Castiel and Gabriel stood up on the half deck where they navigated from. Dean watched from his spot on the main deck outside as they chatted amicably with each other.

Sam wasn’t anywhere in sight and Dean guessed he would be in the galley doing whatever Gabriel had asked him to do. Gabriel’s words rang in his ears: your brother’s proved his worth.

It wasn’t right, none of this was right, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Then again, what _had_ they been expecting when they stowed themselves away on a ship.

Castiel had spotted Dean leaning against the side of the ship, knees drawn partway to his chest and arms crossed.

“Dean.” He said. It sounded serious. This was not a conversation he was about to have. He stood. Castiel moved down the steps quicker and caught his arm before he got chance to get away and find a task to do.

“Dean. Hold on.” Dean turned and tried to tug his wrist free from Castiel’s strong grip but it didn’t happen and only served to move him closer to Castiel.

“What do you want, _Captain_?” He spoke gruff and with as much disrespect as he could. Castiel didn’t react. Dean hated the way he never showed any emotion. Why didn’t he react?

“Four days from now, Charlie has found a city on the edge of Antuilla. If you really want to leave, you can. I’m not going to stop you. I can’t fight you anymore and you’re going to be useless here if you keep it up. So I’m letting you go. I spoke to Raphael this morning; no harm will come to you or your brother for leaving. I can give you some money to start yourself off.” Castiel proposed, quietly. He was setting them free without consequence? It was unbelievable. Dean did all he could not to smile and he nodded gratefully and thanked him. He knew Castiel was disappointed. Not that he cared. Because he didn’t. He walked away, heading to the galley to tell Sam the good news.

“Hey, Sam.” He said going into the galley. There was a large pile of vegetables and cubes of dark meat surrounding the small boy. Sam smiled briefly as Dean came in, before going back to his task. “The captain is letting us go. About four days from now to a city called Antuilla. He’s giving us money and there’s no consequences for us leaving.” He relayed.

Sam didn’t seem happy though. “Why do we even have to leave? Sure, it was a pretty terrible start when they found us and you got the punishment but they’ve been good people since. Don’t you think?”

Dean stopped, taken aback. Sam was disappointed, the captain had been disappointed. He was a disappointment to everyone.

It was four days. They could make it four days, Dean refused to think about Sam not wanting to go with him. But he would because Dean would say they were going and Sam would follow; Dean was the big brother, he knew best.

The port of Antuilla looked a lot friendlier than the one at Restless Bay. Dean could see the rows of fancy houses lining the edges of the mountains and saw the dotted houses heading to the top in between forest and trees. Everything seemed bright, cheery almost.

Charlie and Andy were stood by the smaller boat as they weren’t willing to take the pirate ship into the port of the large city.

Dean tossed his sack with all their newly acquired things that Castiel had given to them into the small boat. It also contained twenty silver and fifty bronze to start them off in their new life.

“Are you sure we have to go?” Sam said tugging on his sleeve. Dean pursed his lips. They had to go, they couldn’t stay here. It wasn’t their place. This new city would do them good, they could forget what had happened to them in the past month and start again.

Dean didn’t reply to him, just started forward taking his brother’s hand in his own. On a last thought, he looked back and saw Castiel stood on the navigation deck, Raphael stood behind him, his dark clothing making him look bigger that he actually was. Gabriel also stood up there, close to Castiel and looking more like his brother than Raphael ever would. It was the look on Castiel’s face that got to him. He looked forlorn, features twisted.

They had to go. He wouldn’t be swayed by looks of disappointment or his brother’s begging. This would be a new life. Safe and they’d have jobs and food and somewhere to live. But, what if on that pirate ship was where they were supposed to be? What if that was their destiny, to join the Archangel and remain safe there? Live a life of adventure and cross the seas.

Dean had one foot in the boat, Sam was already sitting on one of the wooden seats, arms crossed and looking thoroughly annoyed with everything. That was his doing. It wasn’t a look he liked seeing on his little brother’s face. He much preferred the smile and laughter – like when he’d been cooking with Gabriel and learning all the different kinds of vegetables – that’s what he wanted.

Stay there or go? It was the most life altering decision the nineteen-year-old had ever had to make. He just didn’t know.

“Dean?” His brother spoke up, looking at him confused.

“We’re… we’re staying, Sammy.” He said quietly, making up his mind. It would make Sam happy, and the ship at least guaranteed a bed and food. He wasn’t sure if he’d even said it aloud until his brother leapt up from the seat and had his arms wrapped too tight around his middle.

Beside him, Charlie smiled. “We look forward to having you both a part of this crew, kid.”

This was it. Dean looked back up to the navigation deck where he saw the corner of the captain’s lips curl into a smile briefly before all emotion dropped from his face and he gave him a curt nod before turning away.

Within a couple of hours, the anchor was pulled up, sails were raised and the gentle wind began to take them in the right direction, away from Antuilla.

Dean took to the navigation deck and he joined Charlie by the charts once again as they planned the route that Castiel had advised them on. He had the amulet; he was the only one who could tell them where it was taking them as it had been his blood used in the spell.

“Thank you for staying. It really does mean a lot to me and the ship.  You’ve taken the crew back to its full capacity and efficiency after we lost crew member nearly a year ago when we navigated to an island we didn’t know was inhabited by savages.” Castiel said sincerely.

“I’m sorry about your crew member.” Dean said. “Did they help out here, with navigation?”

“Yes. Kevin was brilliant.” Charlie chipped in. “Brilliant and my best friend.”

“I’m sorry.” Dean repeated, quietly.

“Let’s see if you can do as good a job as he did! I’ve been missing my accomplice.” She said, cheering up. “Captain, can we see which way the amulet is taking us?”

Castiel pulled the amulet from his inside pocket and let it dangle from its leather cord. Slowly it began to swing and drift towards a direction. Charlie already had the chart orientated already and placed a fine piece of translucent parchment over the top. Through it, it was possible to just about make out the main images of the chart.

Dipping a quill into an ink pot, Charlie studied the amulet and tried to pinpoint the direction it was swinging. It looked like east north east and she placed a straight edge piece of wood to the right angle and drew a neat constantly line from their position. Their destination would be on that line somewhere. It was a good start.

Charlie began to write down small pointers as to where they needed to go to follow the line shed drawn. Part of it had gone through a major city, so it wasn’t going to be there and they would have to go around the land and pick up the direction from the other side.

Dean had watched carefully as Charlie accounted for wind speed and the direction of the currents, he tried to memorise her methods as best he could.

“Turn starboard a little more Castiel, we’ll begin heading in that direction and it should hopefully lead us to where we need to be.” She instructed.

That was the first time Dean had ever seen the Captain smile properly.


	8. Chapter 8

For nineteen days they followed a straight course towards what they hoped to be their paradise island. The air remained clear, clouds came and went. It was late evening one night and the sky was incredibly clear, almost purple looking with stars dotted in their clusters.

Dean couldn’t sleep despite his busy day helping out Charlie and giving some of the other guys a hand with changing the sails. He crept out of his bed and padded through the ship wearing only his thin pyjamas with his woollen jacket and his boots.

It wasn’t cold outside, it was nearing summer and even during the nights in the middle of the ocean it didn’t seem to cool down too much.

Out on the deck it was deathly quiet. Only the lapping of water against the sides of the ship could be heard as it glided effortlessly through the water. Dean could see Andy walking around on his watch for the night but he wasn’t bothered by Dean. He walked to the hull of the ship and stood where he could look out to sea. Nothing was ahead of them but water and the fine horizon.

The Archangel’s figure head had its wings spread back towards the ship and Dean clambered upon one on the right hand side and made himself reasonably comfy. He didn’t know what was playing on his mind to keep him awake but he hoped that the fresh sea air would make him feel tired.

In all honesty and much to Dean’s own surprise he was enjoying his time on the ship. It was busy, things to do and there was almost nothing to care about.  He and Sam got to spend their time together which they appreciated. Gabriel was informative and chatty, filling his little brother’s head with bright ideas and stories of times gone by. Sam was happy. He was happy, or he was almost happy.

He still wasn’t sure about the captain, wasn’t sure where Castiel stood on his own two feet when Raphael wasn’t in the picture. He’d asked Charlie about it but she’d shut him up before he could even get another word in. Clearly it wasn’t something they spoke about.

“Hello, Dean.” Dean started, his foot slipped off the shoulder of the angel figurehead. He grabbed hold of the head and felt a hand grab him from behind.

Finally, he righted himself and he adjusted himself back to comfort.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.” Dean told him flatly.

“I apologise.” Dean craned his neck round to see the captain’s eyes looking incredibly blue in the low light, sincere with his apology. He stared perhaps a moment too long, but in the early morning he hoped the man hadn’t noticed. Dean chuckled and went back to studying the horizon and making shapes with the stars.

It wasn’t long before Castiel had taken the other shoulder of the angel figurehead.

“Can’t sleep?” Castiel asked, he didn’t look to Dean, just up at the sky making out what he thought could be a horse with the stars. His father had known a lot about the stars and how they made certain shapes depending on where you were.

“Not really. Just don’t feel tired. You?” the small talk seemed awkward and tense.

“Woke up from a bad dream ‘s all, needed some fresh air.” The captain admitted.

That was new. “My dad used to get us to tell him our bad dreams and they’d disappear. Want to tell me about it?” Dean asked. He looked over to the captain and could see that he was forcing himself to keep looking at the sky and not at him.

“No.”

“That’s fine.” Dean told him and looked back at the sky. A lone cloud drifted in front of the moon sending them into darkness but it didn’t last too long.

“What made you stay? I gave you money, clothes and you were hell bent on leaving. Why did you stay?” Castiel asked after a while. He looked at Dean, a curious but confused look on his face, head tilted to one side.

Dean turned to him. “Sam was happy.” He told him. It might not have been the entire truth because he too decided he could be happy here, and seeing the look on Raphael’s face as he stood behind Castiel made him feel slightly guilty to leave the captain behind.

“Are you happy?” Castiel sounded a little sad at the prospect, like Dean had forced himself to be here for his brother’s sake. Though it wouldn’t surprise him if he’d seen Dean’s heroics when he’d first been found aboard.

“I guess so. It’s not that bad here. I like working with Charlie on the charts. She tells me about where you’ve been and the stuff you’ve seen. It’s pretty awesome to be honest.” Dean explained.

“I like you, Dean.” Castiel said, his tone had changed, more sure than before and he actually smiled.

“What?” Dean stuttered, completely dumbfounded by the comment.

“I like you, you’ve been good for this ship, both you and your brother. Gabriel and your brother seem to get along well too.”

“Oh,” Dean put on a smile, a small wash of relief flooding through him. He yawned.

“You can go back to sleep if you want. I’m going to stay out here until the sun rises.”

“I’m good. Doubt I’ll actually sleep anyway. Someone in the room snores like a dragon.” Dean laughed.

“I can tell you about the stars if you want, you seem interested.”

“I like making shapes from them. I think I can see a horse just over there.” Dean mused. He pointed his finger to the cluster he’d seen earlier.

“I see it.” Castiel agreed. “My father called them constellations. They’re ancient with meanings, he told me about the North Star and that’s how I’d find my way home if I were ever lost.” Castiel explained. “Look there, a book my father had showed that to be the big dipper. Then, if you follow those two stars there, they join up and point to the North Star.” Dean looked up, squinting a little and following the trace of Castiel’s finger.

“I see it!” Dean announced and smiled. He took a glance to Castiel briefly who was absorbed in looking at the tiny twinkling dots.

Hours seem to pass and a comfortable silence consumed them as they waited to see the sun rise over the horizon, the dark blueish purple changing to reds and oranges. As Dean turned to Castiel he noticed how the shadows hit his face and illuminated his features, cheekbones and lips.

“The sun is up. I’m going to go and wake Sam, he’ll be wanting to give Gabriel a hand with breakfast.” He announced and began to clamber back down to the deck.

“Okay. I appreciate you staying up, Dean.” Castiel told him as he started to leave.

“You too, Captain.” Dean replied. He said the title with meaning and not with the usual sarcasm.

The day passed slowly, Dean spent it either helping out Charlie with the navigation or leaning over the side of the ship to watch the water pass by. Every so often he swore he saw something else in the water, quick glints of silver before it was just deep, blue ocean.

“What’cha looking at?” Sam asked, bounding up to his older brother and nudging him in the side.

“The sea. I think I’ve seen some fish too.”

“Where!?” Sam was on his tip toes trying to look over the edge but the edge was too high. Dean stood behind his brother and lifted him up a little so he could see.

“The silver shadows you see every so often.” They waited and waited and a few minutes later, just as Dean’s strength was beginning to dwindle, Sam shouted out that he’d seen one.

“I saw it! I saw it!”

“That’s right, buddy. Hey, when are you gonna get taller?” he teased and dropped Sam back to the deck.

Sam pushed him and Dean mocked stumbling and a look of offence. With that, Dean lunged forward and grabbed his brother around the middle and dug his fingers into his sides. Sam squealed and laughed loudly trying to squirm out of Dean’s grip.

“No! STOP! IT TICKLES!” Sam shouted. He collapsed to the floor but Dean only followed him tickling every part of Sam he could reach, Sam’s growing hair was swishing around and hiding his eyes which were streaming with tears of laughter.

“You can’t stop me! I am the strongest of them all!” Dean announced as he sat on his little brother and ceased the tickling.

It took a while for Sam to calm down, breathing as heavily as he could with his brother sat on him.

“Deeeeean! You’re heavy!” he complained, Sam managed to wriggle an arm from under himself and swipe the hair from his eyes and projecting a full puppy dog look at him.

“Spoil sport!” Dean huffed with a smirk. He stood up and held out a hand for his brother to take.

Just as Sam grabbed on, Dean let go and let his brother fall back to the deck. Dean let out a heavy laugh which Sam retaliated by poking out his tongue and sitting up.

“What on earth is going on?” Dean spun around at the unfortunately familiar voice. Raphael stood there, the forever present scowl on his face.

“Nothing.” Dean answered truthfully, because apart from a minor tickle fight between brothers nothing was going on.

“Tell the young on to stop making such incessant noises then. There’s no place for that on this ship.” He said.

Who was he to talk to him like that, sure he may be higher in the ranking system but that was no reason to be rude.

“We were having fun. He’s a kid, that’s allowed right?” Dean stepped up to the taller man.  This wasn’t the first time he’d done it and he wasn’t scared. Not over a little bit of fun.

“No. If you’re on this ship, you work, just like everybody else. I don’t want you here as it is. If you step a foot out of line again I will throw you off the edge without a second thought. I don’t care what my brother thinks. You two are a nuisance and no use.” He scoffed and shoved Dean back towards the edge of the ship. Dean’s back hit the side and Raphael gripped his shirt in his fist. “You keep away from Castiel too, you’ve no business talking to him. I saw you two,”

“Raphael, stop. Let go of him.” Castiel commanded, appearing from behind them. With one final shove to Dean, Raphael let go of him. Raphael knew the consequence. He got to ‘help’ captain the ship if Castiel kept quiet about what he’d seen. It seemed to have evolved into Raphael being able to manipulate his brother without too much of Castiel’s notice.

Sam was standing awkwardly behind the captain; he’d been the one to dash off and grab the captain as the altercation began. Dean remained, flushed faced against the side of the ship as Raphael stalked towards Castiel. He whispered something in his ear making him visibly flinch before disappearing into the ship.

“Dean, are you okay? Did he hurt you at all?” Castiel worried and stepped forward. Dean moved out of the way of Castiel coming towards him and scowled.

“I’m fine.” He grumbled, walking away swiftly. Sam ran after him, falling into step behind him as he headed back to the bunks.

Thankfully, they barely even saw Raphael over the next few days and they got on with their tasks. Once everyone got going, the ship’s crew worked with fluidity. Charlie and Dean sorting out the navigation and overseeing the charts. Castiel taking charge of steering the ship, most of the other guys sorting the sails, coiling the ropes and mending tears. Gabriel and Sam in the kitchen making sure that the crew were well fed.

“I can teach you how to fight, if you want. The sword you got from your father, I can teach you how to use it properly.” Castiel announced one day. He steadied the ship to their day’s course and stepped down to where Dean was sitting atop a capstan, rolling his father’s sword between his hands and running his fingers against the unsharpened blade.

“I can fight. My dad taught me when I was younger.” Dean smirked and jumped down.

“Let’s see what you’ve got then.” He challenged. Castiel drew his sword from its sheath with a dark but friendly glint in his eye.

Dean swung his sword around in his right hand more for show than any sort of skill.

With a nod from both of them, they began. Castiel widened his stance instantly, one foot further forward than the other and his shoulders relaxed. He saw Dean smirk as Castiel made the first move and Dean swiped the weapon to block his attack, only taking one step forward. Castiel had Dean on the defence and kept on going in for an attack, each time Dean blocking out of defence. His defensive was sloppy, only raising the sword to keep Castiel from getting to him.

Castiel paused and backed off for a moment, calculating his next move. Within seconds, he stepped forward, once with a swing of the long blade which Dean swiftly blocked and then again as he moves into the attack. The swords clanged together and slide against each other as they both strain to be the stronger one. Dean held the hilt of his sword with both hands, Castiel brought his second hand up to aid his first.

Dean stepped into the space between them, leaving Castiel no choice but to move back unexpectedly with a stumble. As he did, Dean wrapped his ankle around the captain’s and toppled him over.

Castiel hit the deck with a hard thump, sword landing beside him. Twirling his blade around again, he pressed it against Castiel’s chest.

“Looks like I win.” Dean announced defiantly and winked. Castiel smirked, the glint in his blue eyes back as he grabbed hold of Dean’s sword in such a way that the sharp edges wouldn’t cut his hands and twisted it out of his grab with ease. He bounced to his feet and shoved Dean hard as he caught his legs. Dean yelped as he landed on its back, wind knocked out of him.

Castiel knelt down beside him and grinned at his victory.

“Nobody beats me.” He told him and tapped his on the chest.

Dean huffed.

“Fine, you win. I’ll beat you though. Just you wait.”

“Lesson one: never underestimate your opponent.” The Captain said and stood up, holding a hand out for Dean to take. Dean shook his head and got up by himself, too proud to accept the help.. He coughed and shook out his limbs from the sudden exercise they got before picking up his sword.

“Yeah, I’ll remember that,” Dean laughed.

“Widen your stance a little more, loosen your shoulders and make sure you’ve got a good grip on the hilt and that’s a good basis to start off with.” He instructed and demonstrated a good stance. “Don’t telegraph, I knew a lot of what you were going to do before you even did it, though kicking my feet from under me was a surprise; you fight dirty, Dean.”

Dean just smirked and followed Castiel’s motions as he set them up again to fight once more. Dean tried to be less obvious, breaking from the patterns that his father had taught him and Sam when John had been more sober.

They fought several times, with the captain giving Dean instructions on how to be better every time and sometimes dropping helpful pointers during their match. Dean won twice, the first time he was sure that Castiel let him win but the second time he could definitely say he won fair and square.

“I think that’ll be it for today, Dean.” Castiel said, he sheathed his sword and readjusted his sword belt before shaking his hand as a sign of truce and heading back to his cabin for a rest.

Dean smiled, it had been fun, he couldn’t doubt that, and Castiel had been one hell of a swordsman. Not that it was surprising, from the sound of it, he had grown up on this ship, a pirate through and through.

He headed back to his cabin, checking on Charlie to make sure she didn’t need his help and when she waved him off he popped his head around the door of the galley before telling Sam he was getting his head down for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn’t until eight days later that a devastating storm rolled in. Dean woke up when his stomach lurched and threatened to show him the contents of the previous night’s dinner. It wasn’t like him to get sea sick though, he hadn’t been since he set foot on the ship. He hopped out of bed and noticed that everyone, including Sam, was missing from the cabin. The ship swayed violently again and Dean went up on deck in hopes of settling his stomach and seeing what was going on.

Stepping outside, the sky was threatening; dark clouds loomed over head, painting the sky a dark, ugly grey.

The crew were busy; everyone seemed to have a job to do. Benny and some others were reeling in the sails, rolling them up as tight as they could, despite the battling winds. They stumbled and staggered as they did so. Zachariah was straining to hold on to a rope, so Dean joined him, any previous qualms about him forgotten and pushed aside.

The wind howled as it threaded through the masts and ropes and the ship listed dangerously to one side. The sea rose up to meet the crew, looking black and evil. White horses lined the crests of the high waves, before disappearing into the depths.

Dean looked around for Sam as he held on to the rope tightly in his grip, standing no more than a metre away from Zachariah. He could feel the rough rope cutting into his palms as it rebelled. Dean dug the heels of his boots into the wooden deck as much as he could, catching them between two boards for the most secure footing.

“Keep holding on! Don’t let the sail go back up!” Zachariah yelled. Splashes of salty water mixed with the torrential rain hit their faces as another wave crashed over the side of the ship. It stung his eyes and he wanted to wipe it from his face so he could see but he couldn’t let go of the rope. If he let go of the rope then the entire ship would be in jeopardy.

Dean blinked several times and shook his head to rid as much of the water from his face as he could and he scanned the ship once for more Sam. There, he was up on the navigation deck with Gabriel and Andy. Gabriel was fighting with the helm trying to keep the ship steady to avoid it listing more than it already was. Sam and Andy were holding on too; he wasn’t sure how much help Sam was giving but in this situation Dean reckoned any help was useful.

“We need to tie the rope off, Dean. Back up and go around that capstan.” Dean did as he was told, running his hands along the rope. It burned his hands but Dean made sure to loop it around the capstan, the one he’d been sitting on before the captain had challenged him to a sword fight not that long ago. Round and round, Dean looped it until it was tight before letting Zachariah knot it off tightly. It held.

The wind and the rain were deafening, thunder began to roll and lightening filled the sky with bright flashes of light before sending them back into darkness.

“Sam!” Gabriel yelled to him, he could see that the young boy was trying his hardest to hold on and as much as they needed all the help they could get, Sam wasn’t strong enough to hold on. “Sam, get back inside or you’ll end up overboard.” Gabriel saw Dean standing by the bottom step of the ladder leading up to the navigation deck. He wouldn’t let Sam be thrown overboard just because he wanted to help. He desperately glanced over to Dean, trying to get his attention. Dean eventually caught his eye, squinting through the rain.

“Dean! Get your brother inside!” he called. Dean couldn’t hear him though, the sound of the storm too loud for long distance conversation. “Dean!”

 

Sam held on. Right now his life depended on it; that much he knew. His arms were aching, fingers bleeding and stinging from holding on so tight. It was cold; he was shivering and his hands were going numb and white. Gabriel was shouting at Dean to get him inside but it was all getting lost in the deafening roar of the waves. Sam couldn’t move though; if he moved, if he let go, he was a goner. He was torn. Frightened. Lost. The sea looked menacing, he certainly didn’t want to end up in there. His stomach rolled and lurched as the ship did the same. He was sure he was going to be sick. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Gabriel,” Sam started, but he couldn’t hold on. He couldn’t. “Dean!”  He cried out for his brother even though he seemed miles away, clutching on to the ladder leading to where they were.

The ship listed again and a wave crashed over the side and engulfed him. Sam lost his grip, panic washing over him as he scrambled for a better hold. His hands were cold and wet, there was nothing to grab hold of and he was swallowed into the murky depths of the sea. The water was rough, icy cold as it dragged him under, he tried scrambling to the surface but he could no longer work out which way was up or down. Waves swelled over him as he sunk down further.

Dean called out as he saw his brother engulfed by the wave, Gabriel following shortly after causing Dean to let out a string of curses. Dread filled the pit of his stomach making him feel sicker than the rolling ship was. No. He blinked. Again. Once more. Sam was still gone. In a matter of seconds, he was by the edge and ready to go in after him. He wasn’t going to lose his brother. Not after all they’d been through.

Someone grabbed him from behind, wrapping their arms around his middle tightly.

“No!” Dean cried out. “Sammy!”

“You’ll get yourself killed, Dean,” Castiel’s voice behind him was calm and quiet, just for his ears. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

“He’s my brother, please,” Dean pleaded, going lax against the body behind him as he was dragged away from the edge. The storm was stopping; the rain no longer lashing against their faces or the wind rocking the ship so much. They were both soaked through, skin itchy with salt water but neither of them caring as Castiel held him close.

“I know. Gabriel is my brother too, he’s gone too – god, he’s gone too.” It seemed to Dean that Castiel had only just let the idea sink in and he held on tighter.

“They had to have made it to the surface. They’re not gone. They’ll make it. They can make it, right?” Dean babbled, he wouldn’t accept that his little brother was dead, not that easily.

“Dean, come on, you’re not making sense. You’re in shock, let’s get you inside.”

“I need to find Sam, let me find Sam. He’s in the galley I think. Did you see him in the galley?” Dean asked, it was obvious he was confused, from either the cold or knowing he’d lost his brother Castiel didn’t know.

“Dean,” Castiel knelt up from where they were on the floor, manoeuvring himself from behind Dean to in front of him. “Sam’s not in the galley; he’s gone.”

“No...” numbness spread over him as the reality sunk in and stood on wobbly feet and leant over the side of the ship. It was mostly calm aside from a few rolling waves from strong currents. Narrowing his eyes, he scans the sea for any signs of life. Anything.

“A boat. There! They’re pulling him out the water!” Dean announced loudly, hope filling him, as he spotted a small fishing boat sized vessel bobbing up and down in the water in the distance. The captain and a few other crew members came to see.

“Oh no,” Castiel breathed.

Gabriel shouted out as he saw Sam lose his grip from the helm as a wave crashed over the side. He let go to try and save the boy he’d become friends with, narrowly missing the corner of Sam’s jacket. Another unforgiving wave crashed up onto the navigation deck, hitting him square on and knocking him back. His arms strained against the wood and as the wave receded it swept him with it. He followed Sam into the water, the darkness enveloping him and not letting him up. Bubbles of precious air escaped him as he tumbled upside down, the right way up and over again. He was dizzy and running out of air but no matter which way he tried to swim he couldn’t get to the surface.

His arm hit something hard and he fought to keep his eyes shut. He gripped onto it tight feeling the awkward softness of it. It was a person. Sam.

Fighting for just a little more air that he didn’t have he kicked his legs in a direction he hoped to be the surface and pulled the boy with him. He could save Sam even if he couldn’t save himself.

They broke the surface, he heard Sam take a gasping breath. Gabriel pushed Sam up further out of the water even if he sunk lower.

“Gabriel?” Sam rasped as he saw the mess of dark golden hair below him and sodden green jacket.

Gabriel didn’t resurface. Sam made to grab for him but it was a futile attempt, his hands were frozen stiff, his body aching and fatigued to pull the heavy, water-laden body back to the surface. There was no chance for Sam to save Gabriel.

Sam struggled and kicked as best he could to keep himself above the icy water. The cold was constricting his chest and he coughed several times trying to expel some of the water he had inhaled when he’d first been launched overboard. He tried to see if Gabriel had returned to the surface but there wasn’t much luck and the ship seemed so far away, still bobbing and swaying in the remnants of the storm which seemed to have tapered off into slow rolling waves and dark skies.

Having kept an eye on the ship in front of him he hadn’t seen or heard the smaller boat creep up behind him until hands grabbed hold of his sodden jacket and hauled him, coughing and spluttering, over the side.

He landed with a thump on his back, clothes quickly feeling cold and sticky as he began to shiver. Looking up, leering faces peered at him curiously.

“Looks like we caught a young’un.” One of them laughed. Sam sat himself up quickly upon hearing the words and shuffled back quickly.

“Please don’t hurt me.” Sam pleaded, eyes wide and face pale – from the cold and fear – as he tried to get himself further away.

“Not gonna hurt ya, kid.” He announced and plastered a grin on his face. It looked anything but friendly.

“Just take me back to that ship,” he asked as he stood up, pressing himself to the edge of the boat.

At that point the four men on the small fishing boat laughed. Sam was confused. Had he said something funny to make them laugh? Or were they laughing at him? A furrow creased his brow as he tried to work it out.

“Whatever we take out the water is ours, kid. That’s what we do. You’re ours now,” Another man croaked, and when Sam looked up he saw a pitted face full of scars.

“Let me go back,” Sam felt tears come to his eyes but he fought them back. He had to be strong. Dean wasn’t here so he had to be strong like Dean was. He sniffed hard and mentally shook himself. “I want to go back.” He told them assertively.

“Ain’t gonna happen, kid.” He told him, and with that, the man with the pitted face jumped him, while the other grabbed his arms and pulled them behind him before tying them up either rough, damp rope. He could already feel it chaffing as he was tossed unceremoniously into the bilge of the boat.

Righting himself so he was more comfortable, Sam let himself cry. He just wanted his brother. He should have jumped out and back into the water. Shivers wracked his body as he got colder and colder as he tried to think of a plan to escape. Tried to think like Dean did. Except Dean did that better than him, and he wasn’t there.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean sat against the capstan, feeling cold and numb despite the three blankets he’d been swaddled in, when they found Gabriel.

“Captain!” Charlie let out a sob, hands flying to her face and turning away. “Oh Castiel… I saw him. It’s your brother.” Charlie said solemnly as she spotted the body floating on the water’s surface, his green jacket was swarming around him like seaweed near coral reefs. Dean watched absently as Castiel rushed to the edge.

Something within Dean wanted to go to Castiel, but he was feeling too much of his own loss for that. The captain had told him about the Collectors – the savage pirates who took whatever they could find after a storm to sell it. They had Sam and, as Raphael had so bluntly put it, he was already as good as dead.

Castiel shoved at him then, with more rage towards his over controlling brother than he’d even seen. Dean stayed back from the altercation that was clearly between the two brothers.

“Do you not care for the loss of our own brother?” He queried as he saw the blank slate on his brother’s unfeeling face. He pushed again, Raphael barely moved though. “Do you not feel at all?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, emotion was sizzling inside of him, barely contained.

“Castiel, our brother is dead and there’s nothing we can do about it. Shouting and screaming isn’t going to bring him back.” Raphael informed him coldly as he turned from him.

“Ever since that night, I bet you’ve never been able to feel, you’ve always been cold.” Castiel spat with disgust. Raphael rounded on Castiel, pushing him against the mast, a strong hand against his neck keeping him pinned. Castiel wriggled, trying to free himself, but his brother was much bigger and stronger than he was and he didn’t stand much chance.

Raphael leant in close to his Castiel’s ear, “I told you what would happen if you mentioned what happened that night. Don’t think I won’t do it.” Castiel could feel spittle against his ear and cheek and wiped it away with his sleeve as Raphael let him go.

 

Benny, Zachariah and Andy managed to loop rope around him and scoop him out of the water. Castiel bit back a sob, kept his face stoic as his older brother, first mate and best friend was laid on the deck, face pale, cold and unmoving. He knelt down next to him, sweeping his brother’s long hair from his face. He tried to smile, tried to think that maybe, just maybe he wasn’t dead. After all, he was the one who’d mess around, much to their father’s demise, when they were younger.

Castiel remembered the time when he was just ten years old and Gabriel had tied rope around his hammock so he couldn’t get out of his bed that morning, prompting a stern telling off from his father for being late for his ship duties. Raphael had been nice back then, when he was fifteen years old, and they’d all laugh and play pranks and games with each other. Now though, Raphael was cold, and the harsh reality was that they were no longer young and happy. Their father was dead, their eldest brother had been ostracised and now Castiel’s older brother was dead.

Castiel laid a hand on his brother’s chest, part of him still hoping to feel his heart beating despite knowing deep down that it wasn’t. His brother was dead. Tears streaked down his face, dripping off his chin to join the rest of the salty water soaked into Gabriel’s clothing.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel.” He whispered, words catching in his throat. Everyone seemed to be crowding around them, Charlie had her hand on his shoulder, comforting and grounding him. When he looked up, he caught Dean’s eye momentarily. He looked just as broken as Castiel felt. For some reason he wanted Dean’s presence close to him right now but Dean stayed where he was against the capstan, buried under the warm blankets as he grieved his missing brother.

It felt like hours before anyone moved. Benny came up behind him, three pieces of black graphite in his hand.

“We should, Captain.” He said gently, kneeling down beside Castiel and folding Gabriel’s arms across his chest. He reached for Castiel’s hand and pressed the greasy feeling stone into his hand.

“In honour of Gabriel Novak, first mate of The Archangel.” Benny announced.

Dean looked up upon hearing Benny’s announcement and shuffled the blankets off himself. He should pay his respects, like everyone else. Closing in on everyone else, Castiel eyed him, forcing a smile on his face. His hands were black and grubby from the graphite as he bent down and began to draw.

Long sweeping lines across the deck spanning at least two metres from his lifeless body. The captain stopped, handing the graphite over to Charlie who carried on the motions.

It was passed over to everyone, three pieces of graphite round the twelve crew members. Even Raphael took his turn to graphite the deck.

Benny took the stone and pressed it into Dean’s hand. “It’s tradition, when one of us dies. You’re supposed to have taken the oaths but I’m sure Captain Novak will let you in on this.” He explained simply with a sad smile. Dean took it with shaky hands. He didn’t feel like he deserved to pass this honour. “You are one of us, after all.” He added, as if he’d read Dean’s mind.

Dean moved to the deck and traced over the lines that were already there, not really sure what to do. That was until he felt Castiel behind him, his hand over Dean’s as he showed him where to put new markings.

“That’s it, just like that. Sweeping motions.” He instructed. Dean did as he was told until he’d filled in the last section.

Tears fell from Castiel’s eyes as the drawings were completed. Two large, black, graphite wings stood out on the deck, encompassing the body. It was a beautiful sentiment. One that must go back generations.

Dean saw Castiel’s tears but didn’t comment until the captain wiped them from his cheeks and left behind graphite smears.

“You just got graphite on your face,” Dean had a small but genuine smile on his face and Castiel’s heart felt lighter at the comment.

“Oh, that was a bit silly.” He replied, a real smile forming and reaching his watery eyes.

“Here,” Dean said, he rinsed his hands in the bucket of water that had been put on the deck before reaching up to the captain’s face with fresh hands and wiping away both tears and graphite. While he was at it, he straightened his jacket and smartened him up.  “That’s better. Much more Captain-like.”

Dean hadn’t even realised that everyone was watching them and when he did, his face reddened and he stepped away.

The tension of the grief seemed to have lifted a little within the crew as they finished.

“Will someone gather the feathers please?” Castiel ordered to any of the crew members and Garth headed back inside.

“What are the feathers for?” Dean inquired.

“We string them together before wrapping them around the body, attach a weight to it before sending him into the sea.” Castiel’s explained.

Garth came back up with feathers and thin string. Black feathers, each one looking exactly the same even though they were different. There was a certain warmth to them as Castiel began to tie the string to the feathers.

“In honour of a brother, crew member, first mate, and best friend.” Castiel said. “We will return your body and soul to the sea where it has belonged for twenty-five years.”

The feathers were completed and the string wrapped around Gabriel’s body. Everyone lifted him up, including Dean with a gentle nod of encouragement from Benny.

All twelve of them had a hand on him, everyone quiet as they took him to the edge. Rocks had been attached to weigh him down once he hit the water.

Dean had a strange feeling in his gut as they tossed him over the edge. There was a freezing moment of silence until there was a splash and Gabriel’s body went to the water and began to sink.

“Take his body back to where it came from, may his soul rest in peace.” Castiel finalised. He breathed out hard as if stemming any more tears.

“Okay, I think we need sails up and get going again. Get us to a port, we can restock, sort ourselves out.” Benny suggested. Castiel nodded in agreement, clearing his throat and heading to the helm of the ship, Charlie and Dean following.

Charlie motioned for Dean to stay with her as they worked out where the nearest port was.

“Is he okay?” Dean whispered.

“Are you? He just lost his brother, just like you, you think he’s okay?” She snapped. She looked up at Dean from the chart only to see his distraught face. “Sorry,” She apologised.

“It’s fine. I’m gonna find Sammy though, I will. No matter what it takes, I’ll find him.”

“Dean, he was taken by the Collectors, I doubt you’ll ever find him. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Dean said with a new found defiance. “I will find him; I have to find him.”

Castiel found Dean sitting upon the shoulder of the angel figurehead that night. He saw how his knees were drawn up to his chest, protecting him from the cool breeze that drifted across the ocean. He was looking out to the dark sea around him. Castiel approached carefully, remembering how he’d startled Dean last time.

He cleared his throat and made his footsteps purposely louder than normal.

“Hey,” Dean greeted quietly.

An extra blanket in hand, Castiel climbed up to join Dean, shrouding Dean in the warm blanket as he sat on the other shoulder.

“It’s been a terrible day. I’m surprised you’re not sleeping.” Castiel commented. After all it had even he early hours of that morning when the storm had hit them, when it was just about getting light.

“I don’t think I’ll sleep until I know my brother is safe.” Dean mumbled, pulling the blanket round to cover his bare feet. He’d left his boots on the deck below him along with his jacket, happy to spend the night cold. He welcomed the blanket Castiel gave him though.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Stop. Stop telling me you’re sorry. It wasn’t like you handed him over to them. Hell, he could still be alive for all we know. We could get him back. You said they sell what they find. All we gotta do is find him and buy him back. Right?” He rambled, not looking at Castiel.  He could see his shoulders fall in his peripheral vision.

“We can find him right?”

“Raphael won’t allow it.” Castiel replied solemnly.

“Screw him. It’s your ship, right? _You_ are the captain. What’s the deal between you two anyway?” Dean asked curiously.

“Nothing. Just family drama.” Castiel replied. Dean knew he was lying evening there was nothing in his voice to tell him so.

“Then there’s no reason to listen to him.”

“He killed our father and I saw him do it.” Castiel whispered quickly. He almost hoped that Dean hadn’t heard. Raphael was surely going to end him now if he found out; he’d most certainly kill Dean over it. He’d swore on his life that he’d never say a word about it.

It was only after that they found out the ship was to be left in Castiel’s name, throwing Raphael into fury. Castiel tried to stick with Gabriel but he didn’t know the truth about what had happened and Raphael took control.

“What?” Dean exclaimed louder than he meant to. He lowered his voice and leant closer. “He killed your father?”

Castiel nodded slowly.

“How did no one realise?” Dean wondered.

“We were still children. It was five years ago. I was sixteen, Raphael was twenty-one. We’d been tied up for the evening while the rest of the crew went into the local tavern. Raphael came back drunk. I had been playing card games with my father when it happened. I’d only left the room to find the dice.”

“Cas,” Dean gasped.

“When I came back to my father’s cabin Raphael had a sword through his chest. I tried to be quiet but he’d seen me at the door and pulled me in. I honestly thought he would kill me too.

“It was only afterwards that he found out that father had left the ship to me, and not any of my older brothers. Gabriel didn’t care, he never wanted it anyway. Raphael wanted the ship for himself, and the rest is history.”

“You let him manipulate you.” Dean nodded at Castiel.

“It’s not like I had a choice. I’ve tried, like I did with you and Sam. I mean as much as he manipulates me, I can do it right back at him to a point.”

Castiel pulled the blanket around his shoulders closer to himself and leant against the angel’s head with a sigh. He felt better for telling someone abut he dark secret he’d been keeping for the past five years, but guilt still wrapped itself around his stomach, making him feel nauseous.

Dean sat quietly. It was bad enough to see your father killed in front of you, but by one of your brothers. Dean couldn’t imagine it.

“Hey, Castiel?” Dean started.

“Mmm,”

“I can find my brother. I know I can. The Collectors must have somewhere they go to. Just track them down and find him. I gotta do that.” Dean told him. He leant forward to see Castiel, but he had a pale, blank look on his face.

Dean thought that he’d tell him Sam was dead and that there wasn’t anything they could do about it. But instead, the tiniest light of hope could be seen in the captain’s eyes as he turned to look at him.

“I know how much brothers can mean to people. I had four of them. I’ve been losing them slowly and honestly, it feels like I’m the only one left, but I’ve got my crew.”

“I already lost my dad, I can’t lose Sammy too, he’s all I got, Castiel.”

“You’ve got me.” Castiel commented simply. Dean did a double take on it, hearing something else in there too. “Wherever you need to go and find your brother, however much money it takes to buy him back. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll get him back for you.”

Dean felt like he could cry, he didn’t, just pinched the bridge of his nose as his eyes begun to sting.

“I can’t make promises though, Dean.” Castiel told him, trying his best to get his message across. “Raphael could be right, for all we know, they might have killed him the moment they saw him. I hope not though. I liked Sam, charming and intelligent young boy.”

Dean breathed out relief. They were going to find Sam. Sam was going to be found alive and Dean would be so happy to see him. Twinges of excitement pricked at his skin at how much he hoped to find his little brother.

“Thank you,” said Dean. “Thank you so much.”

Exhaustion washed over Dean as all his pent up emotions washed over him. He stepped down from the figurehead. He was thankful that it was peaceful up there, somewhere he could just sit and think and not have to see the ship behind him. Almost forget that he was even there. He told the captain that he would head to bed for the last few hours before they needed to wake up.

Castiel jumped down after him, resting a hand on his shoulder to stop him momentarily. Dean turned around, confused as to the silence but he could see something in Castiel’s eyes that made him stay silent. Then he was being pulled in, tight against the other man’s body. Dean remained stiff, unsure of what to do, but as it lasted, Dean felt himself melt into the affectionate touch and rested his forehead against the slightly shorter man’s shoulder.  

“We’ll find him.” Castiel murmured into his ear. “We’ll find him.”


	11. Chapter 11

Dean woke up to shouting, Castiel and Raphael, he realised. He turned over in his hammock, tuning the shouting out.

“Mornin’, Sam.” He said as he jumped down from his hammocks the cool morning air hitting his skin and chilling him as he quickly got dressed. “Saaaam? Wake up, buddy!” He drawled teasingly, stepping up to poke his brother’s skinny form under the blankets.

When he poked air, it all rushed back to him.

“Oh...” it was all real. There’d been an inkling that something was wrong, but he put it all down to a nightmare. Except this nightmare was very much real.

Choking back a sob, he listened to the shouting and remembered the night before, of Castiel and himself talking. The phantom feeling of soothing arms around him confused him as he remembered their hug. It had been more than friendly, though. Intimate, almost, as Castiel had whispered gently into his ear that they’d find Sam. Promises that Dean could only hope that Castiel would uphold.

The arguing must be Castiel and his brother debating about finding Sam. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to listen, aware of Raphael’s views on both Sam and himself. He did though, leaving the cabin and heading up the steps to the main deck.

The argument was more violent that he anticipated. They were at each other’s throats – literally – as they yelled. A glint from the early morning sunrise shined off something in Raphael’s hand. Dagger. Dean started forward. When he got close to them he caught Castiel’s eye. The captain shook his head a tiny amount, but Dean caught it.

So did Raphael apparently, as he shoved Castiel into the crates that were on the deck before rounding on Dean. He stepped back but Raphael caught him by the collar of his jacket and dragged him closer. A dangerous glint in his eye as Dean felt the dagger pressed against his windpipe. He slowed his breathing instinctively to stop any self-inflicted pain just from breathing too hard.

“You’re messing with my brother, putting ideas in his head, you filthy rapscallion!” He growled.

 _And you’re not?_ Dean wanted to reply, but he kept his mouth shut in favour of his own life.

“We’re getting to the island. Castiel seems intent on keeping you here but as soon as we get there we won’t have any need for you. You’ll be gone. Dead or otherwise. I couldn’t care less what my idiot brother says.” Suddenly, it felt like Dean’s stomach had been filled with ice cold water. This was it, his death sentence. He wouldn’t even be able to find his little brother.             

The crew had started to crowd around them, distracted from their daily duties. They stayed back though, Castiel just two paces behind his older sibling. Dean had to say something. Anything to try and spare his own life.

“I just want my brother back. You know how I feel. You lost your brother yesterday too.” Dean ventured carefully. He readied himself for a blow, a sliced throat, anything.

Nothing came. The cold metal blade was removed from his neck. He was thankful that Raphael seemed to have a little heart after all. He got a shove for good measure but Dean stayed on his feet. A muttered insult and Raphael stormed off, yelling at the rest of the crew to get back to what they were doing.

Castiel rushed up to him once Raphael was out of sight, hands pulling at the lapels of Dean’s jacket.

“Captain,” said Dean. “Your neck,” Dean reached a hand up and wiped away the thin trail of blood that was seeping from the small cut on the side of his neck. He watched Castiel’s face carefully as he winced slightly. He couldn’t imagine having a brother that would readily kill you. Dean couldn’t imagine any more than loving his brother. It made him miss him more in that moment. Castiel must have seen his face fall.

Hands reached up to his face and all at once he felt what Castiel felt. It was an odd sensation as the surprisingly uncalloused hands cupped his cheeks. Dean shut his eyes, he couldn’t bear to look up at him. Somehow this was different to last night. More gentle.

“Dean?” the captain said carefully, voice softer than he’d ever heard it, a voice just for them. Dean looked up to Castiel, his eyes looking bluer that’ll normal. But maybe he was just seeing him properly for the first time. He’d never given more than fleeting glances at Castiel. Not really. Looks that didn’t mean anything. That seemed to have shifted now. “Why don’t you go into the dinner room, I’ll meet you in there for a moment, I’m just going to speak to Charlie about today’s course.” Castiel smiled and wiped away the two tears that had escaped without a word about them.

Dean hadn’t realised he was crying. Dean Winchester didn’t cry. It seemed though, that after all that had happened – losing his dad, losing his brother – some part of him broke.

Stepping back from Castiel, Dean headed back inside to the mess and sat down on the nearest bench, palms pressed into his eyes.

It wasn’t too long before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t move though, just let he captain sit down beside him. Their thighs pressed together and a comforting warmth spread through him.

“I set the course for the nearest port, Dean. Carlisle might be where they headed first with your brother. We’ll get there in a couple of days, hopefully they’ve not moved on by then. If they have, we’ll ask around and see what people say.” A hand rested atop Dean’s thigh, sparks shot through to his spine. It was an uneasy sensation; he’d never felt anything like it before. He wanted to pull away, head back to his bed and just sleep, hopefully forever.

Castiel seemed to sense Dean’s unease and moved his hand away.

“Captain?” Dean started and Castiel hummed. “Do you really think we’ve got a chance at this?” Dean picked his head up and turned to the man.

“I don’t see why not.” Castiel said optimistically.

“Okay.” Dean agreed, more for his own benefit and to ease his mind than anywhere else.

Castiel looked at Dean for several moments, watching as the cogs turned in his brain, he seemed to be happier in than moment and that, in turn, made Castiel happy. He still sat close to Dean and his hand twitched in his lap to touch him, console him, reassure him. Dean had flinched away before but he reached out again, taking Dean’s hand this time and holding it tight. He smiled at Dean and felt elated when Dean didn’t pull away.

Taking a chance, he leant toward Dean and pressed his lips to Dean’s only for him to turn his head. The kiss landed on his cheek, warm and sweet, but still disappointing. Perhaps Castiel misjudged and Dean didn’t feel the same as he did. Didn’t feel drawn to him like he did, admittedly since the time he first set eyes on him.

“I apologise.” Castiel murmured. He stood up to leave, he didn’t deserve to be here with him. That was okay. Dean needed his peace. Hell, he could use some peace. The place didn’t have that spirit as it did when Gabriel was around. Part of him let him go the moment he hit the water. The other part kept tugging at him. Begging him to keep holding on even though he knew he couldn’t. Maybe that’s what was happening with Dean. Perhaps he was using him as a distraction. First from Raphael and now from his brother’s death.

Now he just felt awful. He didn’t want Dean to think he was leading him on. He’d gone too far; Dean had rejected him. But he hadn’t outright pulled away from him, there could be something there. No. He wouldn’t think that way. Dean was hurting, he was hurting, they had that in common, but it wasn’t an excuse.

Dean came to him later. A small smile on his face that reached his eyes. It was warming to see. He stopped just short of him, also the as close as they had been before.

“Charlie said we’re were about a two days out, there’s a strong easterly wind coming through.” Dean told him. He was acting as if nothing had happened earlier, but it was all that was going through Castiel’s mind.

“That’s great, Dean. It’ll give us better chance of finding him sooner.”

Dean grinned. Something he hadn’t seen in a while.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Dean added quietly. “I, uh, I didn’t want to take advantage of the situation.  We’re both hurting.  I don’t think I could add _us_ to it right now.” He explained. Relief washed over Castiel. Most of his doubts from earlier relinquished.

“I was the one taking advantage,” he corrected, after all he had kissed Dean, not the other way around.

“We can work it out, though. This, whatever it is.” Did that mean they had a chance? Castiel smiled.

Dean hugged Castiel, short and friendly like he’d do with other crew members. It made him feel good, made him feel like he hadn’t forced Dean earlier.

They reached the port two days later, right on the new schedule with the easterly wind blowing them into Carlisle.

Raphael grumbled when they dropped anchor and Castiel, Dean, Andy and Charlie took the small boat to shore. Pirates generally weren’t welcome here but they dressed in clothes that looked more like the townsfolk and went ashore.

The Collectors weren’t the kind of people who would trade in plain sight, but the Captain know the more unsavoury side of the town and directed the four of them there. They ended up in a tavern called Three Demons; dimly lit and full of smoke, it certainly wasn’t the friendliest place.

The Captain whistled for the barmaid and she got them all a drink and a small plate of food, brown bread and cheese.

“What brings you around these parts, Captain Novak? Ain’t seen you in a while.” She asked, reaching her hand over the bar. She took hold of Castiel’s hand gently, beginning to stroke it. Castiel was quick to pull back, he wasn’t up for that kind of attention when he was on important business.

“Business. You haven’t seen the Collectors around have you?” Castiel fingered a single gold coin between his fingers, the shiny surface glinting from a lit lamp behind them.

She eyed the coin up, willing to give information in exchange for money or a little something extra. Her look turned sour for a moment, obviously expecting that something more.

Digging around in his pocket, he pulled out a second and third gold coin to tempt her.

“Meg, I cannot offer you more. We don’t want to run out of time. They have something of ours and we need him back as soon as we can.” Castiel told her sternly.

“Him?” She inquired, her voice changed from a sickly sweet to one that meant business as she clearly wasn’t going to get what she wanted.

“Yes, a child, brown hair, skinny.” Castiel described. Dean moved in closer when he heard them talking about his brother.

“I saw ‘em. Came round here yesterday, drunk as hell. They had a little guy with ‘em though, quiet; they were asking for a lot of money for him.”

Dean knew that it was his brother. It had to be. The thought of them trying to selling him made his blood run cold and he barged his way to the front and leant over the bar.

“Well, hey, handsome.” She winked.

“Shut up, was he hurt? Did he look okay?” Dean demanded. A hand on his back made him pull back as he was face to face with the barmaid. She had a disgusted look on her face, clearly unimpressed with Dean’s actions.

“Should put a leash on that dog o’ yours.” She jibed unkindly.

“Do you want your payment?” Castiel sneered. He put his hand on Dean’s hip to reign him in a little without offending him.

Meg threw hand hands up in surrender before leaning back on the bar. “I gave you information. They came yesterday, left in the early hours of this morning. Didn’t even stay for food.” She beckoned the money and Castiel gave it to her.

“Know where they headed?” Castiel asked finally.

“Next port is Tigerhead further north. Try there.” She informed them. She grabbed a cloth and busied herself by wiping over the wooden surface.

Castiel took that as his cue to leave and he joined Charlie and Andy at one of the tables to eat. Dean sat down next to the captain, and was eyed by Charlie as he sat closer to the captain than usual but she didn’t comment.

The bread was near stale and the ale was warm. Dean scoffed down the bread and cheese without a second thought but didn’t touch the ale. That confused Castiel, in this life you ate what was put in front of you and never turned down a tankard of ale. Dean just regarded it with distrust and pushed it to the centre of the table in a silent offering. Andy, with a quick glance at the other two, nabbed it and downed half of it in one, letting out a satisfied gasp.

“Did you want something else to drink, Dean?” Charlie asked politely.

“Nah, I’m good. Just itching to get going I suppose. They only left this morning, so maybe we could catch them up. Lady said he looked alright, that’s a good thing in my books.” Dean said, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He was happy but most of him didn’t want to hold out too much hope. They could have done anything in the time since they left there. The thought left him numb and he didn’t want to think about it anymore. Standing up, Dean left the three pirate at the table in favour of going outside.

It was substantially cooler outside, less smoky but there were more disreputable characters lurking around which he did his best to ignore and not make eye contact. It wasn’t long before there was a tap on his shoulder and he started.

“Come on, we’re going.” Castiel told him and they headed back to where they’d tied up their boat. Andy was carrying a small sack, and Dean decided it was probably full of bread which they rarely had as it went stale too quick.

They could see the ship from their small boat as they clambered in, the captain didn’t comment on Dean’s quietness, figuring he was just concerned about his brother. It was understandable.

“Go with Charlie and prepare our route to the next port.” Castiel instructed, if anything it would distract Dean from his thoughts as Castiel went to check on the rest of the crew. Perhaps he’d help out Benny in the galley – the food hadn’t been the same since Gabriel had gone, there must have been some secret ingredient that he used, he mused. Gabriel’s recipes had always been creative, living on the ship with limited resources at the best of times aided that.

A bout of sadness seemed to crush his heart then, made his stomach turn. He threw his fist into the bulkhead and stifled a gasp as it stung more than expected. Tiny pinpricks of blood pooled to the surface.

“Cas?” Castiel turned around to see Dean stood there, concern and confusion on his face. He quickly hid his hand, like a child playing with something they shouldn’t. That was new, he hadn’t been called _Cas_ since his little brother died. He refused to remember that night though. Blocked it from his memory, told himself he’d never think of it again, he’d only been eleven at the time.

Piracy was dangerous, he knew that, he’d grown up in this life. Pirates died all the time, killed by naval sailors, hung by townsfolk, taken by the sea – murdered by your own family, he thought darkly. Anger welled up in him again. He’d lost so much, often for no bigger cause than someone else’s gain.

He and Raphael were the last of the Novak pirates. There had been six once. His mother died during his youngest sibling’s birth, his father who had been killed by Raphael. His baby brother Samandriel who had been stabbed at the age of four when other pirates tried to board the ship, Castiel had held him as he died, blood soaked clothing as the small child cried until his last breath. There had been no need for his death, his father had already agreed to hand over what money they had, but they killed him anyway as he cried out for his father. Lucifer had been cast out after he tried to take over the ship, thinking he could get away with mutiny. None of them had seen him since. Now Gabriel was dead too – it wasn’t fair.

“Captain?” Dean tried again, he daren’t reach out for the man, he could see his fist balled up, ready to strike, and as much as he liked Castiel, Dean wasn’t prepared for a punch to the face from him. He’d already received enough pain from Castiel, the scars of his lashes fresh in his mind.

Castiel visibly shook himself, took a deep breath and looked at Dean who was still standing there.

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” He assured Dean, but it sounded like he was telling himself. He uncurled his fist and relaxed.

“Charlie said it was about another two days until we get to Tigerhead.” Dean informed him, trying to avoid the subject that was clearly hanging between them.

“That’s great, Dean. I hope Meg was right about this – that they stay in this port longer.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, Castiel didn’t miss how his eyes darted to his hands by his side. “Will you let me look at your hand?” he added quietly.

Castiel didn’t say anything for a moment, and was about to refuse when Dean took hold of his bloody hand, inspecting it closely. He let Dean though, the touch of Dean’s fingers gentle against his knuckles.

“I think you’re gonna have to lose the hand!” Dean exclaimed playfully.

Castiel huffed a laugh. “I wanna keep my hand though,” He commented with a watery voice as tears from pent up anger and sadness consumed him.

Dean did his best to ignore the tears and he pulled Castiel – with his good hand – into the cabin that he knew belonged to the captain.

Inside was a lot more plush than the pigsty that made up the cabin where the rest of the crew slept. He had a proper bed, with an Egyptian cotton quilt of expensive rarity. There were oil lamps above the bed which were currently unlit, leaving the room darkened. Dean sat Castiel on the edge of his bed before taking matches and lighting them. They illuminated the room gently and Dean returned to Castiel, kneeling down in front of him.

He looked closer at the hand, seeing the splinters from the wood and the now drying blood. Dean decided that it would be best to remove the splinters and clean the wound, so he left the room briefly, returning with a pair of tweezers, a cloth and a small bowl of water. As a last minute thought, he picked up the glass bottle of amber liquid that he vaguely remembered drinking before passing out when Garth took care of his injuries.

Entering the room again, Castiel was sat in the same spot as he was before Dean left, hadn’t moved an inch. Dean plucked one of the oil lamps from the wall and set it down beside him so he could see better.

Dean wet the cloth in the basin under the watchful gaze of the captain. They probably had a lot to say but the silence was calming so they kept it. He gently dabbed at the wound on Castiel’s knuckles and the captain gasped. Most of the dried blood came away and Dean was able to see the small pieces of wood embedded in the skin. He pulled them out gently, without looking up at the Captain’s flinches.

Eventually, all of the splinters that Dean could find were gone so he ran the wet cloth back over it to remove any remaining blood.

 

“All sorted.” Dean told Castiel quietly. He pulled Castiel’s hand up and pressed a kiss to his long fingers, keeping away from the injuries. It made Castiel smile at least.

Dean stood and returned the oil lamp to where it was supposed to be. When he turned back, Castiel had moved and was a lot closer than expected.

“Hi,” Dean said. “You wanna stand any closer?” He added teasingly.

“I’d like to.” Castiel answered. He did so, putting one of his feet between Dean’s own and pressing their bodies together. Castiel’s hands hung lightly around Dean’s waist. “Just like this.”

Dean’s heart fluttered with the close contact. They were getting closer, and with hope regarding his brother he was more inclined to indulge himself. The captain seemed to need this right now. Something was eating at him and Dean realised it probably wasn’t just the recent death of Gabriel.

Dean looped his own arms around Castiel’s waist, mirroring the captain. Pressing his forehead against his, it was warm and calming and felt like nobody else existed. They stayed there for a moment, not talking, barely even looking at each other. Castiel had his eyes shut, soaking in the moment. Dean watched Castiel’s face carefully, as if it were the last thing he’d ever see. He’d seen it before, when the moon shadowed across his face when they were sat upon the angel. It looked the same now, as the oil lamps cast shadows across his face, and he could see the curving contours of his cheekbones.

Castiel opened his eyes slowly, Dean’s eyes looked greener than they’d ever been this close and he could see each individual fleck of colour within them, mostly green, but tiny flecks of hazel were dashed in.

It was Dean who made the first move, much to Castiel’s relief. He didn’t want a repeat of what had happened a few days before. Dean dipped in towards Castiel’s lips with fervour. Slick wetness meshed together as they kissed, Dean trying to take over but Castiel pushing back.

Castiel backed him up against the side of the wall, pressing them right together, lips still sealed against one another, only pausing for a breath.  Dean loosened his hand from Castiel’s waist and ran it up the back of his navy coloured jacket before resting at his neck. It only served to pull them closer, Dean needed him closer as he felt himself breaking. He was falling apart against Castiel even though it was the other he’d come to help and comfort.

Eventually, both men were out of breath with their chests heaving. Dean laughed then. But it wasn’t a joyful laugh, it was bitter, guilty.

“What are you laughing at?” Castiel questioned. Had he done something wrong or amusing? He stepped back half a pace and cocked his head to one side on confusion.

“Never thought I’d end up kissing the captain. Especially when my little brother is still missing.” Guilt. Dean stood back, pushing Castiel away from him. How could he be doing this if his brother was still missing? His brother was top priority, Castiel had fought with his own brother to get him to find Sam. It was selfish. He couldn’t even imagine what Sammy was going through right then.

“Don’t,” Castiel whispered, he stepped towards Dean again, trying to bring them close but Dean only moved away again, shaking his head. “Don’t feel guilty about this, there’s two of us playing this game. I think – I think we both need this, Dean. I’m not guilty for it, you shouldn’t be either. Okay?”

Dean contemplated first a while, not really believing what the captain was saying.

“Okay.” Dean agreed, maybe if he told himself it was okay then it would be. He put up a smile for the pirate and Castiel pulled him in close. They didn’t kiss, Dean rested his head against Castiel’s shoulder, nuzzling in close. The captain ran his hand up and down Dean’s back, silent reassurance.

“You should sleep tonight Dean. You’ll need it, it’s going to be a long few days until we get to Tigerhead.” Castiel pressed one last kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth, unheated, more caring – compassionate.

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll go back to Charlie. See if she needs any help with the charts.” Dean muttered as he was released from the Captain’s embrace.

“Have a good evening, Dean.” Castiel said politely, Dean closed the door quietly behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

Tigerhead was a large rocky port, gaining its name from the rocky outcrop that looked like the name suggests. Smaller fishing boats milled around, nets cast in the waters as they hauled up hundreds of fish. The Archangel sailed through, much larger than the other boats and moored up in a smaller, lesser known port. The sails were taken down, Dean giving Benny a hand with tying them up. Zachariah and Andy got off the ship and wrapped the rope around the large dockside capstans.

The captain came off the ship and joined them in the dockside with Dean not far behind.

“I’d suggest going down to the tavern on the outskirts of the port.” Zachariah mentioned before heading back on board to finish his tasks.

Castiel nodded and hiked his sword belt up a little so it sat more comfortable on his waist. He rested a hand against the hilt as they began to trek towards the tavern.

The path was awkward, unkempt with leaves and branches littering it. They navigated it carefully, trying not to trip on any stray vines. They mostly managed, with Dean only stumbling once.

Reaching the more populated area where the tavern was, they split up, Dean and the captain went towards the tavern as suggested by Zachariah, while Charlie and Andy headed into one a short distance away. Both were known for their backroom unsavoury activities.

“We don’t want no people like you in ‘ere.”  Said a voice as soon as they walked in. It was to be expected. Some people would be able to tell they were pirates without even looking at their mark.

“Were not looking for any trouble,” Castiel reasoned. “Besides, this man isn’t even a pirate.”

“I don’t care, you’re a pirate, get out.” The older woman behind the bar raised her sword towards them in warning. Nobody else in the room batted an eyelid at the confrontation, it happened often, she was the owner of the place – you didn’t mess with her.

Castiel stopped, hand still on the hilt of his sword. “I’m looking for someone. Looking for the Collectors.”

“Nobody looks for the Collectors.” She told them dryly. She lowered her sword and sheathed it.

“They have my brother. They took him.” Dean spoke up. He stepped towards the woman carefully so not to provoke her, as kind as she looked, it seemed like she’d be able to kill him with one swipe of her blade.

She eyes him for a moment before motioning towards a table. The place was buzzing with people, loud enough that the woman leaned in close to talk to him. It was better that way, people didn’t talk about the Collectors. They knew what went on, and they left it at that.

“They were around this evening, couple of hours before you got here.”

“Did they have a boy with them?” Dean asked quickly.

“They did, sent ‘em away as soon as I saw ‘em. I don’t do that round here. There’s a line I don’t cross.”

“But you’ll sell women’s bodies for sexual favours?” Castiel commented crudely. He instantly regretted it as he felt the tip of her sword against his inner thigh, too close for comfort against a part of him he really would rather keep.

“And you steal from other ships and if people die, who cares, right?” She retaliated, leaving both questions unanswered and with a stalemate.

Honestly, taking ships and killing wasn’t Castiel. That was his older brother.

“What happened to them?” Dean butted in, trying to draw away the tension, he didn’t miss the captain’s tense look but he wanted the information on his brother.

“Just as I was about to throw them out, some rich guy asked to buy the kid. Overheard the transaction, fifty-eight gold, he gave him. And took the kid with them.”

“Brown hair, scrawny lookin’?” Dean asked, he was hoping it was still him, at least they’d have a location of some sort. Anything.

“That’s the one.” She replied.

“Do you know who it was that bought him?” Castiel implored, he rested he arms

“No, I’ve only seen the man here once before. He probably lives on the other side of Tigerhead, that’s where all the rich folk live, ‘ardly ever come ‘round here.” She explains. “If you wanna go over there, ya can’t miss the house.”

Castiel nodded in understanding. It was likely they’d have to go over there. He didn’t want to fail Dean.

“Are ya stayin’ for a tankard o’ ale, boys?” She concluded, standing up and sliding back behind the bar.

“Yes, that’d be great.” Castiel asked.

“Not for me.” Dean added in. He received an odd look from her at that, as if it were a crime not to want to drink it.

“You sure, boy? It’s good stuff over here,”

Dean debated. On principle, he shouldn’t. Not after he knew that the ale was killing his father. Though everyone else seemed to be drinking it just fine. Maybe he’d be alright.

“Okay, I’ll cede.” Dean said and the woman smiled at him before pouring two tankards out and setting them on the table.

Apprehensive at first, Dean took small sips. It tasted okay. The smell still reminded him of what his dad used to smell like which was both off putting and oddly comforting at the same time. It tasted okay though with a fuzzy aftertaste that he wasn’t so sure about but he took a bigger drink and the tankard was empty before he knew it.

“Good stuff, right?” Castiel said, polishing off his drink too before standing up to leave.

“Suppose,” Dean replied, following Castiel out. They’d left a healthy tip on their table for the bar owner, she’d given them good information after all.

They saw Charlie and Andy heading towards them and waved them over.

“We got nothin’,” Andy announced, shrugging his shoulders.

“We do. Sam was bought by some rich guy on the other side of Tigerhead. Apparently you can’t miss the house.” Castiel explained. Dean was smiling a little.

“We gonna head over there now?” Charlie asked, throwing her long red hair back over her shoulder and readjusting her jacket.

“Yeah. I’ve got enough money on me if we have to buy him back, if not, we’re taking him.” Castiel told them. They all nodded their head in agreement. Dean’s hand reached out quickly to brush against the captain’s in thanks.

The other side of Tigerhead, past the main city and filthy workers, the town was rather extravagant. There was only one large house with a grand lawn and some kind of water ornament. The house itself looked like it had at least three floors and by Castiel’s experience, probably a basement too. Stone built with a slate roof, it must’ve cost a fortune.

It didn’t bother them though, as they sauntered across the clipped grass to the oak front doors. Charlie knelt down in front of the door without a word and began to pick the lock with specialist tools. There were a series of clicks and the door was unlocked. Charlie swung the door open and it opened out to a highly decorated hallway. There were paintings of naval ships on the walls, china pots on wooden plinths, and polished wooden floors. They entered quietly, rolling their feet as they walked to stop the clacking of their boots. It seemed empty up here and all four drew their swords in case they came into contact with someone.

The house was quiet, but it was getting late in the evening so it was possible that they had retired for the evening or were sat in their fancy drawing room.

As they moved through the house they noticed a light on and quiet murmuring through the door.

“Speak up, boy. We can't be having you mumbling around this house.” A male voice said sternly. Dean paused outside the door.

“Sorry,” a small voice replied. Sammy. That was Sammy’s voice. He was in there. “I mean. Sorry, sir.”

Dean turned to Castiel and nudged him to grab his attention. When he looked around, Dean nodded his head towards the door, signalling that he'd found his brother. The Captain gave him a small smile and Dean felt happier that they were so close to getting his little brother back.

The captain stepped forward and quietly turned the door knob. The door opened and three faces turned to them, all with shock on their face.

“Dean!” Sam cried happily. He dropped the fine china that was resting on a tray in his hand, letting it smash into small pieces in the floor.

The woman, sat on one of the plush armchairs called out in fright and the man picked up his sword from the table where it was resting.

“Sam!” Dean called back, he made to go to him but Castiel held him back as he stepped in front of him and was in the defence. Sam had gone forward too but the manacle around his ankle tripped him and he fell to the floor.

Castiel swung his sword expertly, blocking all the attacks from the naval man. The distinctive sounds of metal against metal alongside grunts of effort filled the room.

The woman made to get up but Charlie was there in an instant, sword against her throat and a warning look on her face - _you move, you die_.

Dean felt useless, he couldn't go to his brother amidst the fight going on in front of him, and Charlie had control of the wife. Andy was on the lookout for any more people in the house as they banged and clattered in the drawing room. That was until Castiel was kicked to the floor obviously unexpectedly by the look on his face. Dean stepped in just in time to block the man’s sword jabbing down and heading for the Captain’s gut. Legs straddled over Castiel, he caught the sailor’s sword with his own and drew it upwards and away from the captain.

Adrenaline surged through Dean giving him newfound strength and he charged the man backward and slammed them into the wall. Dean put the man’s sword holding hand in such a position that eventually he cried out and dropped it to the floor.

“You filthy pirates think you can come into _my_ home?” The sailor spat.

Dean said nothing and pressed his sword into the man’s neck and watched as a trickle of blood oozed out and settle in the hollow at the base of this throat. It was strangely satisfying. He eased off minutely. Dean looked back for instruction, suddenly not knowing what he was supposed to do with the man. Kill him and grab Sam or just keep him out the way until they got Sam?

Castiel had picked himself up from the floor and was receiving his sword with a huff when he caught Dean’s eye.  Though Castiel didn’t say anything, it was clear to Dean what his intentions were. He needed to free Sam while Dean kept his eye on the sailor. The captain eyed Sam on the floor, eyes wide in fear and small cuts on his hands and face from the shattered china cups. His eyes returned to Dean momentarily before slowly making his way over to Sam.

Dean busied himself keeping a steady watch over the captain as Castiel made quick work of picking the lock to the manacle chained around Sam’s skinny ankle.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asked quietly and when Sam nodded he lifted the fifteen-year-old off the floor and into his own two feet.

He turned back to Dean then who seemed to be grumbling at the man he was holding. He put a hand to Dean’s elbow, letting him know he was there while trying not to startle him.

“Stop.” He said simply. Dean frowned at the man in front of him and turned his head to Castiel wearing the same expression. As much as he wanted confirmation as to what to do, this man had stolen – bought – his Sammy. No one deserved to live after that. He just needed someone outside his conscience to tell him it was alright.

“He took my brother, Cas.” Dean tried to reason. He applied more pressure to the already broken skin and the man before them began to struggle.

“I know. You’ll regret it if you do kill him though.” Castiel explained. He pulled at Dean’s elbow, trying to get him to lessen the pressure on the man’s throat. He complied and eventually stepped away.

Dean ran to his brother, the older boy lifting his little brother into his arms with a spine crushing hug. It felt like he hadn't seen Sam in years, when it had been just eight days. Eight days of torture that felt worse than the punishment he’d received from Castiel – by order of Raphael – when they’d been found in the ship.

“I missed you, Sammy.” Dean breathed as Sam wrapped his long skinny legs around his waist.

“It was horrible, Dean!” Sam rightly complained. “They kept me in a box until we went into the taverns. People were looking at me.” There were tears on the boy’s face as he recalled the bad times.

“I gotcha, Sam. You’re not with them anymore. We’re going back.” Dean comforted, as much as he didn’t want to hear about his brother’s ordeal he felt like he needed to. He caught Castiel’s eye and nodded.

Charlie drew her sword back from her threatening position by the wife and made her way to the door where Andy was waiting. Dean carried his brother to join them and looked back at where Castiel still seemed to be threatening the naval man.

“Captain?” Charlie called, sheathing her sword.

“I'll be out in a moment.” Castiel replied dryly. That didn't sound good. Whatever Castiel was going to do, it wasn’t going to be good. Dean hesitated, holding on tighter to his brother in his arms, he heard Sam sniff into his jacket and felt him bury his face into his neck.

“Come on,” Charlie encouraged, nudging Dean back towards the main door.

When they got outside, Andy and Charlie began to make their way back to the ship. Dean stopped, hiked his brother back up in his arms and followed. There’d be a reason that they were leaving Castiel behind. That reason came when Dean heard a scream though the open door and he span around quickly. Sam huffed in protest of the quick movement. Dean saw Castiel come out of the house, wiping his blade on a piece of rag before sheathing his sword and discarding the rag on the lawn.

Anger bubbled up inside Dean. It didn’t make any sense to him that Castiel had killed the man and stopped him when Dean could have done so himself. Hotly, he turned back around and marched off to catch up with Charlie and Andy, completely ignoring Castiel.


	13. Chapter 13

Part of the way back, Dean put Sam down and gave him a piggy back instead as it was much easier to carry him. It wasn’t long before Sam’s head was resting on his shoulder and he was sleeping.

They got back to the ship around lunchtime and Dean headed straight to the sleeping cabin, ignoring the welcome greetings they were getting from the crew.

Dean hauled his little brother, still sleeping, into his hammock and pulled the blankets over him. He turned to his own bed and gave his blankets to Sam as well, he deserved all the warmth he could get after his ordeal. It settled Dean a little that his brother was sleeping peacefully, his tear and blood stained face relaxed.

Dean threaded a hand through Sam’s fluffy hair and told him he’d be back soon and headed towards Garth’s cabin. He knocked before poking his head around the door and saw Garth at his small writing desk scribbling in a journal.

“Hello, Dean. How’s Sam?” He asked as Dean stepped in.

“He’s okay. Sleeping at the moment. Could I grab some cloths and water? I just want to clean him up a little.” Dean wondered, he leaned against the table in the centre of the room.

Garth stood up and rummaged around for a couple of clean cloths and then filled a basin of water. He handed them over to Dean along with a small pot of jelly like liquid.

“What’s that?” Dean asks eyeing the mixture with suspicion.

“Just some antiseptic. I’d like to see Sam myself at some point. I understand why you want to spend the time with him now.”

“Come by tonight,” Dean requested and left the room.

Dean nearly made it back to the room when a hand grabbed his elbow. He turned to see Castiel stood there, a small smile on his face. The anger from before began to rise but he pushed it back down with a huff and turned away. Right now he just wanted to sort his brother out, get him back on his own two feet.

“Dean?” Castiel called after him as he shut the door. Dean didn’t want to talk to him. What gave him the right to kill that man in cold blood in front of his wife? Sure, they were pirates but Castiel – and Gabriel – had told them that Castiel did not kill in cold blood.  It didn’t make sense.

Dean forced a breath and shook off the emotions as he lay down the items Garth had given him. Dean dipped a cloth into the lukewarm water before moving Sam’s hair from his face and wiping the tear tracks and dried blood. Adding a little of the antiseptic goo to the water, he began to carefully clean the small cuts on his face.

“Ow...” Sam complained.

“Sorry.” Dean replied automatically before adding: “just trying to make your face look less ugly.”

Sam laughed. “I think you’ll need it more than me then, jerk.”

Dean fake gasped and dabbed another cut by Sam’s eyebrow. “Now you’re just being disrespectful, bitch.”

Dean finished up on Sam’s face and pulled his arms out from under the blankets. “These hurt much?” He asked looking at the red rings around his small wrists.

“Not so much.” The fact they’d hurt in the first place was marginally his own fault trying to wrangle his way out of them even though it was obvious it wasn’t going to happen.

Dean cleaned them up with the antiseptic anyway for good measure and asked if anywhere else hurt.

“My ankle,” Sam explained, untangling it from the sheets and presenting it to his brother. It was red raw and near bleeding, deep purple bruises around the edge of where the manacles had been around it while he was at the house. “I may have fought when one of his other servants put it on me. That’s why it’s so bad.” Sam told him when he saw Dean’s face, pain and guilt all over it.

Dean made sure that he put extra antiseptic on the cloth before treating it, trying not to stop every time Sam hissed in pain. When Sam attempted to move his foot away instinctively, Dean held it firmly and applied the paste.

“Sorted. You’ll be good as new soon.” Dean announced. Dean tossed the cloths into the small basin and they all began to soak up the tinged water.

“Hey, Dean? You think I could work with Gabriel in the galley tomorrow?” Sam wondered.

Dean blanched. How was he going to tell him that Gabriel was dead and that they’d buried him at sea?

Apparently his ashen face and silence said it all. “He’s gone, hasn’t he?” Sam said forlornly, turning his face into his pillow.

Dean just nodded before reaching out to squeeze Sam’s arm, comforting him.

There was a knock on the door, unusual seeing as everyone normally barged in like nobody’s business. Sam peeped over the hammock and saw Castiel stood at the door looking a little sheepish.

“Hi, Captain.” Sam said somewhat cheerfully despite the news he’d just been given.

“Hello, Sam. I hope you’re feeling okay.” He asked, he didn’t come any closer than the door though, given Dean’s glare.

“Yeah...” Sam replied.

“Dean, I need to talk to you.” Castiel said finally, obviously what he wanted in the first place. Dean didn’t argue, he would give Castiel a piece of his mind when he was out of the room. The smile he flashed Sam though made his heart do something strange and suddenly all he wanted to do was thank Castiel for saving his brother.

“Get some rest, Sammy.” Dean instructed before heading out the room.

As soon as they were outside, Dean grabbed hold of the Captain and dragged him into his cabin, he kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot before slamming Castiel up against it. More emotions than he could handle washing and cascading over him.

He kissed him hard, running his tongue along Castiel’s lips, want rising to the surface. They didn’t part though, didn’t let him in and anger and hurt took over. A tear slipped over the edge of his eye and he stepped away, planting himself down on the edge of the bed and pressing his palms into his eyes.

He sat there for a moment before standing back and pacing the room.

“Dean?” Castiel said carefully. Dean paused. “What’s the matter, Dean?”

“You.” He replied simply because Castiel was every single problem he had right now.

“What about me?” he pressed.

Dean stood face to face with him. “Everything. You killed that man in cold blood after stopping me doing the exact same thing. There was no reason for it.”

“What was stopping that sailor from telling whoever he reports to that we were there? They’d be on to us in an instant. I do everything for a reason, Dean. I told you that.”

He was right. Dean knew that. But he still stopped him from killing the man. Castiel had his hands on Dean’s hips which was distracting in itself, but Castiel’s eyes were as turbulent as the sea had been the day of the storm.

“I know. But why stop me?” Dean shut his eyes and tried to ignore Castiel touching him. He didn’t want to step away, frankly he was relishing in the feeling of someone else touching him.

“Because,” Castiel guided him back to the edge of the bed and they both sat down on the dark blue, cotton sheets. “it would have been unnecessary. It would have been red in your ledger that you didn’t need. You have enough guilt weighing on your shoulders as it is. I wasn’t about to give you more. Besides, you saved my life today,” Castiel’s hands were become alarming distracting as he turned to him and began to ruck up his shirt. “You looked fierce fighting that man.”

Dean huffed as Castiel’s cool hands ran up his sides, rippling along his ribs. He rested his head on Castiel’s shoulder. There was no way he could be mad at him now. Unless that was the plan. Dean pulled himself away, taking hold of Castiel’s hands in the process.

“I’m still mad at you.” Dean said. “You didn’t need to kill him in front of his wife. You of all people know what it’s like to see someone you love die in front of you. _I_ know what it’s like.”

“I asked her to leave the room.” Castiel reasoned. Dean couldn’t tell if Castiel was telling the truth or not but he let it slide.

“Thank you for saving my brother.”

“Thank you for saving my life. I owe you for that.” Castiel’s grin was feral as Dean let him have free reign of his body once again. His long fingers felt good rolling up his flanks, easing the muscles in his back which were strained after carrying his brother the distance back to the ship.

“There’s nothing you can give me.” Dean told him. He had his brother. A roof over his head. Food to eat. What more did he need?

“Me. You can have me.” Castiel pushed Dean back gently and his head hit the cotton pillows, the feel of them almost caressing his head. Castiel blinked slowly as he rucked Dean’s shirt up further, displaying his flat, tanned stomach and lean muscles.

Castiel crawled over him and began to peel off Dean’s dark red jacket. Dean let him, rolling his shoulders out of the sleeves and leaving him in his thin shirt that was pulled over his stomach. Castiel’s hands roamed of their own accord, running down Dean’s sides and disappearing under the shirt to his collarbone. More kisses were planted across his stomach and chest.

Dean reached up to grab hold of something, anything that would ground him. He was getting lost in the sensations and it felt as if he were floating. He arched his back as the captain took a nipple between his lips and ran his tongue over the now hard nub. Whimpers and moans escaped him without warning and Dean locked eyes with a grinning Castiel up above him. His hands moved to Castiel’s shoulder, pawing at the dark blue fabric. The captain sat up for a moment, knees still straddled around Dean’s thighs, and removed his jacket, throwing it haphazardly on the floor. He fumbled with the ties on his shirt before removing that too and helping Dean out of his own.

Castiel dipped back down and sealed their lips together, pressing in harder and knocking their noses together. As Castiel pulled away for a breath, Dean looked up, Castiel’s eyes were lust blown black and barely any of the stormy blue remained. There was a perpetual smile on his face which made Dean feel fuzzy inside.

The captain drifted his kisses towards Dean’s neck and nipped at the delicate skin. Dean took the chance to nibble on the lobe of Castiel’s ear making him gasp and pause at Dean’s neck to breathe hard. Dean could feel a small pressure on his thigh and he smirked, kissing along the edge of his ear and sucking on the lobe more.

“Heavens, that’s distracting,” Castiel breathed, Dean could feel the hot air as he spoke brush across his shoulder and Castiel’s hands caress his shoulders. Castiel pulled away before it got too much, after all this was for Dean. Castiel eyed Dean’s tented trousers and shuffled back so he could remove them. It left Dean in just underwear which were discarded quickly too. Castiel hummed with satisfaction, Dean’s cock was already hard, leaking and looking highly inviting. He wrapped his hand around the length and Dean sucked in a sharp breath.

“Cas...” Dean gasped, eyes clamping closed with pleasure as he arched his back. “That… that feels good...”

Hand still around Dean’s dick, Castiel bent and tongued at the tip, earning more wanton gasps and whimpers. Dean threaded his hands into Castiel’s hair which earned him his own groan. In return Castiel licked a stripe from the base to the tip before taking Dean’s cock into his mouth and sucking gently. He moved his hand from the base of Dean’s cock and fondled his balls.

Dean panted hard, curling his toes as pleasure swirled in the pit of his stomach, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He shuddered as he felt Castiel’s tongue swirling around the tip and concentrating on the sensitive nerves. He stopped after a few seconds and returned to bobbing his head up and down Dean’s rigid shaft, dark eyes completely focused on Dean’s.

His legs clamped tight around Castiel’s head, rougher than intended but he was so close to the edge. One hand was wrapped tight in Castiel’s dark hair while the other went between clutching the cotton sheets and clawing at the Captain’s shoulder, leaving red indentations. He threw back his head as Castiel soothed strokes into his thigh and tongued his slit. Dean looked back down, meeting Castiel’s beautiful eyes and watched as his lips worked enthusiastically.

“Ah-Ah... Cas,” He panted in warning. He finally released with an intense shiver and a groan; the Captain kept his mouth over Dean’s cock, drinking down everything with a smirk.

After sucking Dean though the dizzying orgasm, Dean’s eyes fluttered shut in a post-coital haze, sweat-beaded chest heaving. Castiel watched a small smile play on his lover’s face as he pulled off Dean’s now soft dick.

Dean shifted as Castiel lay down next to him. They smiled at each other silently, just listening to each other breathe hard and Dean tipped his head to press an innocent kiss to the tip of the Captain’s nose.

Castiel let out a breathy laugh at that and looped a hand over Dean’s waist as they came down from their high. The Captain was soon back to pressing kisses to Dean’s lips, softer and more gentle than before, no heat, just something else which Dean didn’t know what to call. He could taste himself, a salty tang, on Castiel’s lips as they kissed sending minute shivers of arousal down his spine.

“Enjoy your repayment?” Castiel asked eventually, smiling. Dean just nodded, completely lost for words as his eyes drooped closed and back open, trying with all his might to stay awake. What if Sam needed him and he wasn’t there? “Sleep, Dean, I’m sure Sam will be okay until the morning.” He said as if he read Dean’s mind.


	14. Chapter 14

Dean woke with someone pressed against his back. At first he thought it was his brother, having crawled into his bed during the night. It hadn’t been uncommon when they lived in the tiny cart repair shop, but as he craned his neck he saw dark, sleep mussed hair, the events of the night before came back to him.

“Morning,” Dean mumbled and turned into Castiel’s arms.

He saw as Castiel frowned, eyes still closed. “Morning,” Castiel’s eyes opened and they were back to being as blue as the ocean again. “You should probably head out sooner rather than later.” Castiel said. Dean frowned, of course it was purely repayment and that was it. Dean sighed, he thought maybe just for a moment they’d had something. The stolen kisses on the ship’s figurehead, the comforting. It all boiled down to _nothing_ and last night was just repayment.

Dean dragged himself from under the soft sheets and faced away from Castiel as he dressed.

“Dean? Don’t think of this as me shoving you out. I’m... I don’t think my brother would approve of this.” He explained, the tiny crease between his brows deepening.

To hell with his brother, Dean though bitterly. “It’s your ship.” Dean reminded him as he’d done before.

“And you know what he holds over me. He’ll take anything to throw me off this ship – to _kill_ me.”

“Would the others care?” Dean asked, adjusting his jacket sleeves and doing up the few buttons.

“Doubt it.” He replied simply, sitting up in the bed and letting the sheets fall to his waist.

“Then it’s your ship. Your crew, can’t you just ask him to get off?” Dean said, turning around to face the naked chested Captain.

He didn’t understand. His brother was manipulating him, making him do things he didn’t want to. He didn’t know why he wanted to keep someone like that around.

“He’s still my brother and my only brother left. Forgive me if I still want family over everything.”

Oh. It was so obvious he didn’t see it. Dean didn’t want to leave their time together negatively so just nodded in understanding.

“Thank you, for last night, Cas.” Dean told him, smiling.

“Hold on, Dean.” Castiel instructed. He clambered out of the bed in all his naked glory, Dean felt like he should avert his eyes despite the fact they’d both been naked the night before. He did, finding an interesting knot in the wooden deck.

He didn’t even hear Castiel’s soft footsteps come up to him a moment later. Hands were on his face, cupping his cheeks. Dean looked up. Castiel was smiling as he dipped in a pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Just checking that we were still on good terms.” He reasoned. He nudged Dean’s chin up with a finger. “Go set the course for the island with Charlie. My brother will probably be up there so just be careful what you say.” He smiled sadly as if the last thing he wanted to do was keep their relationship private.

Dean shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” He squeezed Castiel’s hand in his own.

“I’ll meet you up there soon. I expect Raphael will want me to trigger the amulet even though we’re miles off course and we can easily get back to where we were before the storm hit with you and Charlie going through the charts.”

Dean left the room, checking left and right before heading back to where his brother should be in his hammock still.

He was still fast asleep, tucked under his blankets. There was a cup of water on the floor and a half eaten bowl of stew that Garth probably left him when he came in the previous evening.

“Where did you sleep last night?” Sam asked tiredly.

“Uh, I didn’t. I stayed up on the figurehead.” He lied. He hated lying to his brother but now didn’t feel like the time he should be sharing his relationships.

“Is that why you have a bruise on your neck?” Sam smirked. It was nice to hear his cheery voice again.

“You,” He pointed his finger at his little brother. “Need to stop talking. Now, come on. I’m sure Charlie will like the two of us helping her.” Sam smiled like he knew the secrets to the universe and punched his brother lightly in the arm.

Sam jumped down from his hammock and his face fell. “Can’t I go to the galley and make breakfast?”

“Not today, I’m sure Benny can handle it. You’re sticking with me today.” Dean was sure that his brother would be fine with Benny in the galley but he wanted to keep an eye on him for the day and Gabriel wasn’t around to keep him cheery anymore.

“Okay.”

“Get dressed and I’ll meet you up on the navigation deck.”

Raphael was already up on the navigation deck with Charlie when Dean got there, his younger brother following close behind him. The amulet was dangling from the older man’s hands as if he were trying to determine the direction it would take him.

“You know, Cas... Castiel,” he caught himself before he went on. “is the only one to make that work.” Dean sneered.

“I am well aware of its magics.” Raphael scowled. “I suggest you move along, _boy_.”

“Leave him be, brother.” Castiel instructed before out stretching his hand to retrieve the amulet. His brother gave it up somewhat reluctantly, slapping it unceremoniously into the captain’s hand.

Dean resisted a satisfied smirk as he turned to the man to watch him set the amulet at a gentle swing and saw as it began to sway a certain way. Dean smiled, whatever this place was, it would hopefully be worth it.

Raphael stood a short distance away, watching with a beady eye as Dean and his brother moved swiftly around each other. He didn’t miss the minute touches they had between themselves. It ratted him. Scoundrel stowaway was changing his brother. He stalked off to find a drink and left them to it. He would have stern words with him later when everyone else was busy.

Castiel caught his brother leaving the deck but paid it no heed as he concentrated on bending over the chart table to draw up their directions. There were probably hundreds of tiny islands that lay on the main line that they’d drawn, Castiel just hoped they’d find the one they were looking for.

They’d been told it was a paradise. Leafy green trees, fresh water springs and caves that held diamonds and other valuable stones. Completely untouched as it had never been found. There had been tales of people trying to find it and dying treacherous deaths along the way. In truth, they’d lost one of their own already – nearly lost two – but Castiel put that thought to one side before he started grieving for his brother again. However, their father had wanted to find it before his untimely death so that is what they would do, even if their father wouldn’t be there to see it.

Dean was leaning next to him, quill in hand and adjusting the tracing parchment over the top of their current map. He was busy drawing a series of lines and trying to get them to intersect which would give them a better idea as to where to head for the island. By the looks of it, it was already going to be a hundred-day sail toward where they needed to go.

Castiel sent Sam down to the storage hold to take count of what food they had left and then go to the galley to see what fresh food they had left. That way they could determine how many stops they were going to have to make.

Dean’s side was pressed against his own and it sent tiny shivers up his spine which made him smile and remember their night together. When he cleared his throat he looked up to Charlie to ask her a question and she shot him a knowing but kind look.

“Not a word.” He told her simply.

“Sure, Captain.” She replied with a wink and a grin as she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and tied it up in a messy bun with a small piece of cloth.

“It’s sweet,” She whispered, meeting him halfway across the square table.

Castiel couldn’t help but blush.

“The infamous pirate Captain Novak is anything but sweet.” Dean piped in, leaning in with the rest of them. “ _Handsome_ , is a better word.”

Castiel rolled his eyes as he pulled back. “Get back to work, you lousy lot.” he grumbled, light-heartedly.

Castiel left them to it, trusting them to be able to get the Archangel back on route to where the island would be. He made his way back to his cabin to retrieve his father’s journals, wanting to go over how his father had described the paradise.

He never made it, Raphael grabbed his arm in a bruising grip and dragged him into a small storage room. He had a large hand over his mouth to prevent him from shouting out.

Castiel squirmed in his brother’s grip, but the forearm against his chest and hand over his mouth prevented him from moving even an inch. Raphael leant in close, his dark eyes mere inches from Castiel’s own blue ones.

“That boy is corrupting you.” Raphael growled. “You’re supposed to be captaining this ship with the efficiency of our father. Not going around sleeping with the crew, and a filthy, thieving stowaway at that!” He made a disgusted sound.

Castiel tried to shake his head, explain that nothing was going on and that he could captain this ship efficiently and was doing so. It was getting hard to breathe with his brother pressing against his chest and dark spots began to cloud the edges of his vision. He did his best to take in all the air he could through his nose while kicking out his foot to try and steer his brother off. His hands were pinned uselessly to his sides and he couldn’t even get hold of his sword or dagger.

“I should have killed you too that night, you know. I should’ve run you through with the same blade that killed our father.” Castiel’s laboured breathing faltered at the words, the dark edges were getting closer and closer. There would be no mercy from his brother. He would be pinned here until his brother let go or he passed out. He hoped it wasn’t the latter.

It didn’t seem like that would be the case however as the darkness swept over his mind and his body went limp in his brother's arms, the last thing he saw was his brother’s dark grimace.

Raphael let him go and he fell to the deck in a heap. Thankfully, he’d landed on the spare blankets next to the fresh food.

Light engulfed the room and Raphael turned to see who had opened the door.

He was met by the young boy, sword outstretched in front of him. Raphael scoffed. If this _child_ thought, he could beat him he was sorely mistaken. He stepped forward and made to grab the sword from Sam, but he remained firm, steady on his two feet as he raised the tip to meet the central point on Raphael’s chest. He’d heard everything.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Sam scowled. A laugh escaped Raphael and he rolled his eyes.

“Really?” there wasn’t much power behind Sam, and Raphael grabbed the sword, sharp edges be damned and moved it out the way so he could shove at the boy, sending him flying across the deck and landing with a heavy thump.

Sam got back up, running towards Raphael with all his might, shoving him back and raising his sword again. Benny came out the galley to see what the commotion was about to see Sam holding his sword against Raphael’s chest.

“Hey! Woah!” Benny eased as he stepped towards the confrontation.

“He hurt the Captain, Benny! Castiel is in the cupboard.” Sam explained quickly.

Benny backed up and made his way to the storage cabin to see the captain slumped unconscious against the wall.

“Captain?” He called, bending down and shaking him, trying to rouse him. “Captain?”

There was a cough and splutter as Castiel drew in a sharp breath, he braced himself against the person in front of him, steadying the dizziness. He tried to stand but Benny held him down.

“I’m fine.” Castiel croaked.

“Yeah, you sure sound like it,” Benny commented and looked around to see Zachariah, Sam and Andy surrounding Raphael, swords drawn.

Dean dashed over, closely followed by Charlie. Dean took in the situation, Castiel on the floor, Sammy fending off Raphael.

“What did you do?” Dean asked, a hand on his sword. This was in no way his place, but Castiel was hurt and judging by the fact everyone was ganging up on Raphael, he was the one to hurt him.

“Just trying to teach my brother a lesson.” Raphael stated cockily.

“Right, and what would that be?” Dean growled. He saw the Captain getting to his feet behind Raphael, rubbing his chest.

“That you’re corrupting him. You were supposed to have been killed the day you were found. But Castiel kept you like a pair of lost kittens. You’re supposed to be dead.” He sneered and jumped to his feet. Sam instinctively stepped back from the threat but everyone else leaped forward and grabbed hold of the older man. Pinning his arms behind him, they hoisted him up and manhandled him towards the brig. Neither Dean nor Sam had any desire to go down there, having had a traumatic visit previously and stayed above deck to help Castiel.

The captain insisted that he was fine, naturally, and tried to push both Benny and Dean away.

“I don’t believe you.” Sam said as Castiel told them he was fine for the hundredth time. His chest still ached and his jaw was bruised and he was far from fine. Raphael had caused him a lot of trouble in the last five years and he had mostly put up with it, going along with his ideals and followed his orders likes a soldier, but nearly killing him – that was too far. It wasn’t unexpected, Castiel was honestly surprised it hadn’t happened sooner or – as Raphael had so lovingly put – when he’d seen Raphael kill their father five years ago.

At Sam’s insistence that he wasn’t okay, he bent down a little so he was eye to eye with the younger boy, he didn’t have to go far as Sam was nearly as tall as he was and knew he’d grow taller.

“I’m fine. Thank you for being concerned, but I’m okay. Though I’m glad you turned up when you did or I might not have been.” Castiel explained. Sam beamed as Castiel ruffled the boy’s hair. Dean looked on at the scene with adoration. Castiel was smiling despite his bruised jaw and it warmed something inside Dean which he daren’t put a name to in fear of breaking it.


	15. Chapter 15

Dean had been dragged by a smiling Castiel night after night towards the captain’s cabin, and took to sleeping in Castiel’s bed instead, it was far more comfortable after all. They spent nights curled up against one another, Dean’s worry for his brother lessened as they got back into a routine, Sam taking place next to Benny cooking food for the ship. It was all working. Castiel visited his brother in the brig every so often, taking down whatever food was left over to him. He may have tried to kill him but he refused to let him starve.

Fifty-three days into their sail towards a paradise they hoped to call home, something changed. Castiel curled a hand around his lover’s waist as the sun began to rise and shine through the small porthole and cast down on the cotton sheets.

“How’d you like to be a real pirate?” He whispered into Dean’s ear, watching as the tiny hairs by his ear bristled. “Both you and your brother.” He wasn’t even sure if Dean was awake until he rolled over do they were nose to nose.

Dean didn’t say anything, eyes shiny, contemplating the offer. This would be it for Dean and his brother. Sure they could probably walk off this ship at the next port, find themselves new lives. They’d tried it once and Dean had rejected it at the last moment but that was before everything; the storm, Gabriel’s death, Sam’s kidnapping. Before Castiel made sure that they found Sam. Before Dean fell -

“Yeah... that’d be great, Sam would love to.” Dean whispered back before finishing his thoughts.

“And would you too? Don’t just do it because Sam does.”

“No, I do. I’ve got nothing to lose, nothing to go back to. Life on the sea is an adventure, right?” Dean reasoned, Castiel gathered it was more for Dean’s own peace of mind though.

“Right.” Castiel smiled and shuffled his hands up to Dean’s face. It was getting later in the morning and they should probably get up. No one was going to bother them though, Charlie still gave them nudges and giggles whenever they emerged from the room together, or brushed against one another when they stood too close.

Dean’s cheeks were smooth in his hands, having recently been shaved – a luxury that Castiel had offered him. His green eyes flitted from Castiel’s own eyes to his lips and he took that as invitation to move in and press his own lips against Dean’s. They were soft and warm and he could feel Dean smile against him.

“I’d definitely be a pirate for this.” Dean murmured and Castiel chuckled.

“We should get up, you’ve got routes to plan and I’ve got a ship to run.” Castiel said with a sigh. The last thing he wanted right now was to leave the warmth of the bed and Dean.

The captain sat up reluctantly, the cotton quilt pooling at his waist. Dean could see the tattoo on his left hip as he moved to get out of bed. The intertwining, swirling lines and intricate feathers adorning the ends. That was the mark of the ship, as Castiel had explained one night to Dean as they lay quietly next to each other.  There was another on his forearm, a small cross – that pointed him out to be a pirate. It was used as a kind of pass to get in to pirate-run ports. Some pirates that had been caught by the navy had a branded ‘p’ on their shoulder but Castiel was brand free thankfully. Dean couldn’t imagine how much that had to hurt.

Getting dressed, Castiel only had his underwear on as he pulled a naked Dean out of his bed to encourage him to start the day. The captain pulled them close together and kissed Dean’s jaw before wrapping a hand around his back and grabbing a handful of butt. It made Dean take in a sharp breath before he smiled and huffed a laugh.

“Get dressed and I’ll see you in the mess for breakfast. We can see what your brother’s cooked up for us today. The porridge we had the other day was really good,” said Castiel as he pushed Dean away towards his clothing.

Dean dressed quickly and was heading out the door before he even got his jacket on but he didn’t miss out on one last kiss.

The mess was busy as usual with just a few missing who were on watch. It was porridge again and it was flavoured with expensive (and stolen) vanilla pods. Castiel explained as Sam sat down next to Dean that there had been another pirate ship a while ago who started firing at them when they got too close so they boarded and held the ship’s crew hostage until they’d cleaned them out. It had been where they got most of their extravagancies from, and Castiel seemed pleased at the memory. The Captain could sense that it had left Sam and Dean feeling slightly uneasy.

It wasn’t as if they had a stellar history themselves. Dean had, once or twice, gone out and stolen bread from the bakers just eight houses away from their own cart repair shop. It wasn’t Dean’s fault that the rather plump looking baker decided to cool his bread loafs on the windowsill. However, that had been a last resort and Dean vowed that he’d never do it again unless they really needed it.

Upon seeing their awkward expressions, Castiel halted his tale and apologised. Dean just smiled and tucked into his porridge with an overfilled spoon.

Breakfast was quiet after that. It was a comfortable silence; part of Dean was itching to tell his brother about the offer Castiel had made him that morning but the other was suggesting he kept it a secret. He wasn’t sure which to do until Castiel spoke up again as he pushed his empty bowl towards the centre of the table.

“Sam, I spoke to your brother this morning about completing the ceremony for you to become an official pirate. What do you say?”

Sam’s face lit up and he couldn’t swallow his last mouthful fast enough. He coughed on the last bit of oatmeal before grinning.

“Dean, Dean! Can we?” he begged. Dean snorted and smiled, looking up to his brother.

“You can do whatever you want, kid.” Dean told him and Sam jumped up from the table and ran to the other side to hug the Captain. Castiel was more than surprised with the gesture and stiffened before relaxing into the friendly embrace.

“You’re welcome, Sam.” Castiel said, letting the smaller boy wrap his arms around him. He let go eventually and stood back, still smiling.

“Give us a couple of days and we’ll have everything set up for you.”

“Awesome! Are you doing it too, Dean?”

“Sure, ‘course I am.” He replied. He polished off the last of his own breakfast and stacked his bowl with Castiel’s and Sam’s.

That night Dean couldn’t sleep. Whether it was nerves or something else he didn’t know but it was too hot and too cold all at the same time and he couldn’t deal with it. In the end he slid out from the tangle of the captain’s arms and headed out onto the deck. He could see a figure with a lamp in his hand at the aft end of the ship so Dean headed towards the archangel figurehead to clear his head.

He clambered up, much more swiftly that the first couple of times he came up here and pulled his jacket around his shoulders. He took his time breathing deeply and just trying to let everything go, not that it seemed to be working. Maybe he should just not go ahead with it tomorrow. Another time maybe.

“Thought I’d find you up here,” Castiel said. Dean had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard Castiel come up behind him and sit on the angel’s other shoulder.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Dean stated simply.

“You don’t have to do it you know. No one’s forcing you.” Castiel supplied, reaching around the angel’s head to put a hand on Dean’s knee. The touch was almost an instant comfort and it made it easier to breathe.

“I know, but I do want this, I know I do.” Dean glanced over at Castiel who had a small smile on his face. His blue eyes always seemed to catch the moonlight when it was a clear night.

“Come on, you should sleep, Dean.” Castiel said, tugging gently as Dean’s hand in encouragement before climbing back onto the deck.

Dean followed swiftly, gracefully jumping from the edge onto the wooden deck without much noise. Castiel caught him before he could head back, wrapping his arms around his waist. Dean dropped his head onto Castiel’s shoulder and sighed.

“Come on,” Castiel whispered, pulling away and dragging a suddenly exhausted Dean back to their cabin.

Dean woke to small kisses being peppered over his jaw and neck, hands roaming over his bare chest and down to his iliac crest, tracing the contours. Dean groaned and turned on his side from his back as he opened his eyes.

The captain had a gentle smile on his face and sleepy lidded eyes. It was still a little dark outside, dawn only just rising, it was the beginning of autumn though and the days were shorter and the darkness lingered longer.

Castiel hummed something quietly that Dean missed as he nearly drifted off.

“I didn’t hear you,” Dean mumbled, pressing a kiss back to Castiel’s cheek before nibbling half-heartedly at his neck and earlobe.

“I asked if you were ready for today.” Castiel smiled and huffed a little as Dean mouthed against the ticklish skin under his ear.

“Yeah, I think so. I want to do this and I know Sam does too.” Dean knew he was saying it more for himself but he really did want to go through with this. As long as he had Castiel, Dean would be happy to comply with the loyalty oath, the tattoos were just a bonus.

Dean traced his fingers over Castiel’s firm stomach down to his hip where he knew Castiel’s own tattoos were, looping lines of loyalty and wings of an archangel, he could see it without even looking at it.

Castiel took a deep breath suddenly and sat up, startling Dean a little. He explained that he needed to go and speak to Garth and Benny before the ceremony started.

“Okay, I’ll be up and out in a moment.”

Dean dressed, pulling on his off-white cotton shirt and his dark jacket, not bothering to do it up.

Out on deck, everyone was bustling around getting things sorted. It seemed that the whole ceremony thing was a big task. Dean saw Castiel chatting to Benny and Garth with a smile on his face but serious eyes. Benny chuckled at something Castiel said before clapping the captain on the shoulder and heading inside with Garth trailing behind him.

Dean smiled when Castiel caught his eye and was about to head towards him when a body barrelled into him.

“Dean! We get to become real pirates today!” He said with an enthusiasm that could only match the now sixteen-year-old Sam.

“Yes we do. I take it you’re excited?” Dean teased as he shoved his brother playfully. Sam lost his balance with a laugh and stumbled before using the momentum to shove back at Dean.

Sam nodded. “Are you excited, Dean?”

“Yeah...” Dean tried to make himself sound more thrilled than he was as the nerves were still eating at him. It frustrated him as to why. This could be their home; they wouldn’t have to work long hours in a dingy cart shop or muck out stables of pretentious rich folk. Here they could be themselves and do what they want. Hell, Dean had found more here without the intention of falling for someone.

“Dean?” Sam started, Dean hummed a partial reply, eyes drifting back over to the navigation deck where Charlie and Castiel were hunched over the chart table. “Are you in love with Captain Novak?” Dean flushed and knew Sam would have a shit eating grin on his face without even looking at him.

Words left him and he just nodded slowly, a tiny smile turning the corner of his lips.

Sam hugged him. Long gangly arms wrapping around his waist. Dean was pretty sure Sam had grown, Sam’s head reaching just past his shoulder.

“You need to stop eating so much, or you’re gonna be taller than me and I’m the big brother,”

“Whatever, Dean. I’ll be taller than you eventually and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!” Sam laughed. He ran off into the main part of the ship, most likely to eat some forms of breakfast while everyone else was busy.

“Benny and Garth are setting up for when you get your tattoos. Benny will be the one to do it, Garth is standing by if anything goes wrong.” Castiel told him as he trotted down the steps, leather boots tapping lightly against the wood.

Dean stopped mid pace, face blanching. If things could go wrong, then he wasn’t up for putting Sam into the situation.

“I didn’t mean – no, nothing is going to go wrong Dean. It’s just a precaution. You’ll be fine.” Castiel reassured quickly. Dean smiled a little as Castiel grabbed his hands.

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Dean mumbled.

“Sam will be fine too. The tattoo just takes a little while to heal, that’s all. I promise.” A kiss was pressed to Dean’s lips before Dean could say any more and Castiel tightened his grip, trying to comfort him.

“Okay. What do we need to do first?” Dean asked with a breath.

“You take the oath: Oath to Piracy, prove your loyalty and then you can receive your tattoos later. It’s all simple.” Castiel explained. He let go of Dean’s hands, pressed a kiss to his cheek and wandered off inside the ship.

Dean stood there feeling lost for a moment before Sam came back and tugged him to the ship’s side to watch as they dropped anchor. Sam asked him how deep the sea was, and though Dean didn’t know he guessed they were in slightly shallower waters due to the fact he could see an island on the horizon.

The crew gathered in a half circle around a wooden pedestal which held a brass basin of what looked like the graphite rocks from Gabriel’s burial. A wash of grief washed over Dean as he saw it.

“Sam, Dean. Please come over and stand in front of me.” Castiel instructed, voice authoritative like it had been the first time they’d encountered him.


	16. Chapter 16

Captain Novak looked as intimidating as he had done when they’d been on their knees begging for their lives to be spared all those months ago. Now though, seeing through the calm stoic expression, Dean could see the fondness that he had for them both.

“Who is to go first?” He asked, gaze flicking between them both. Dean barely hesitated and was about to step forward but Sam beat him to it. “Sam,”

“Yeah,” He looked up to Castiel and smiled a little even though nerves were wracking his mind.

“No need to be nervous,” he whispered so only Sam could hear. Sam took a breath and gave a discreet nod.

“Sam,” Castiel began. “You are to take the Oath of Piracy. Repeat after me: I, Sam Winchester,”

“I, Sam Winchester,” He repeated, voice a little shaky.

“Swear to owe myself to the sea and to piracy,” Castiel continued. Sam repeated dutifully, voice stronger and louder. “To keep the secrecy of our people from our enemies.” The captain paused to let Sam speak. “I swear to make the sea my home,”

“I swear to make the sea my home,” Sam repeated, smile on his face. This was more than exciting and he was relishing every moment.

“And to keep my loyalties to my crew and to my captain.”

They paused for a breath. Everyone else was looking on intently.

“My ship will become a part of me until the day of my death and not a day before.” Sam finished repeating and his smile matched Castiel’s. Castiel nodded and Sam stepped back to his spot next to Dean.

Dean paced forward with a breath and took in his lover’s calm features. This was it. This was going to be their life forever.

Dean repeated the oath after the captain and stepped back next to Sam.

“Now,” Castiel’s voice returned to the authoritative boom. “You must shed your blood to prove your loyalty to this ship.” The captain produced a dagger from in front of the bowl holding the graphite.

The dagger itself was intensely decorated on its ivory handle, the blade without a dent or scratch, well looked after. Castiel offered it up and Dean took it before his brother could, he knew it would hurt but it had to be done.

“Palm of your hand and drip the blood over the rocks.” Castiel instructed.

Dean took the blade into his hand and held his other over the brass dish. He took a breath before placing the blade against the meaty part of his skin. Just resting there, Dean could feel it was razor sharp and with an encouraging nod from Castiel he sliced open his palm with a stifled gasp and held it over the black rocks. He watched as several drops of blood landed on the graphite before the knife was taken from him. Castiel wiped the blade with a cloth as Garth came up beside Dean and wrapped a piece of fabric around his hand and pressed down firmly.

“Keep this on and hold pressure,” Garth whispered.

It was Sam’s turn next and Dean was more than apprehensive. Sure it had only hurt for a moment and was a clean cut but he still didn't like the idea of his little brother cutting open his hand.

The knife was handed over to him and Sam took it, feigning confidence and holding out his hand just like Dean had done. He held his hands over the brass bowl and cut slowly, hissing as blood dripped from the wound. Garth was there again as soon as he’d finished and wrapped up Sam’s hand gently. Dean heard Garth let Sam know that it would heal quickly and shouldn’t hurt too much by the next day. Dean watched as Sam nodded and straightened his back.

“I want Sam to go first for the inking.” Castiel said, it hadn’t escaped his notice that Sam had faltered a little after watching his brother cut his palm. Sam shouldn’t have to watch Benny ink his brother up first, he knew how uncomfortable it could be.

“But-” Dean tried to protest, but Castiel held up a hand to stop him. Dean shut his mouth with a frown.

“You can go down with him, Dean.” With the compromise, Dean nodded and followed his brother, Benny and Garth down to the medical room.

“Jump up, Sam,” Garth said as Benny busied himself getting what he needed. Garth lifted up Sam’s shirt to expose his side and doused the area with cold water before applying an antiseptic to his skin.

“This ain’t gonna be comfortable, kid,” Benny warned Sam as he came up beside him and sat on the stool. Sam just nodded and looked over to Dean who had holed himself up in the corner out the way.

Sam flinched as Benny grazed something sharp against his skin, drawing out the swirling lines so he had something to ink against. When he was done, he gave no warning before dipping the needle block in the black ink and pulling Sam’s skin taut.

There was an audible whimper as the needles punctured Sam’s skin and began the tattooing process.

It seemed to take forever and it wasn’t long before Sam had bitten through the fine layer of delicate skin on his lip to refrain from telling them to stop. Dean had come over, a hand on his shoulder and kept him together until it was over. When it was, Sam breathed heavily and his side twinged and ached deep.

“Stay there for a moment. I have some medicine that will help with the pain.” Garth trotted over to some cabinets on one of the walls and pulled out a small carton of tablets. He poured one out and went over to Sam.

“Open your mouth,” Garth instructed. Sam complied and Garth put the small tablet on his tongue. “Swallow it, and drink a little water.”

Sam did so and followed the brown tablet down with a swig of water. He grimaced at the chalky taste it left but he didn’t really care as long as his side didn’t hurt anymore. The medication seemed to work quickly and Sam sat up and slid himself off the table. He smiled over at Dean, proving he was okay and Dean gingerly made his way to the table, a false façade of bravado on his face. He could do this; Sam had done it, so Dean could as well. Fingers brushed against his own and he glanced up to see Castiel with an encouraging smile on his face.

Taking a subtle deep breath, Dean lay down on the table and allowed Benny to ruck up his shirt and clean the skin.

“You ready, Dean?” Benny asked. It was a stupid thing to ask because he’d never be ready, not really. Dean just grumbled and huffed. Benny pulled at the skin without another word and traced the pattern he would shortly ink. Dean did his best to keep his gasps quiet through the process, but the first time the needle bunch went in was unexpected and he let out an undignified yelp. Sam giggled before snorting and quietening himself. Dean blamed the strong pain medication and let him off, he could always seek his revenge later when his side wasn’t being stabbed multiple times.

Eventually though, the process was over and Garth was there with a cup of water and a pill for Dean to take. He downed it and hoped that the pain relief worked quickly. The pain felt deep, a permanent ache and it made it awkward to walk, but he breathed through it.

“I want you both to come to me every day to have it bathed and cleaned for the next two weeks, understand?” Garth instructed firmly, point a bony finger at them both. They both nodded tiredly, feeling the haze of the medication wash over them. “And, both of you sleep until that medication wears off, you’re useless when you’re on it.” Again, they both nod and were carted out the room by Castiel. Sam didn’t miss that Castiel had taken Dean’s hand and was holding on tightly, he’d also not missed how Dean never sleeps in his hammock anymore and was frequently seen traipsing out of the captain’s cabin in the morning. The thoughts made him giggly and he didn’t stop until Dean was helping him into his hammock and tucking him in. He had asked once if Dean was in love with Castiel but never received an answer but he knew. Sam grumbled about being sixteen and not needing to be tucked in but Dean’s big brother complex meant he’d ignored him and did it anyway, much to the younger brother’s chagrin.

Dean smiled as Sam dropped off to sleep almost instantly and headed for Castiel’s room down the corridor. It was heaven how the cotton sheets slid over his body smoothly and didn’t irritate the new ink on his side. He lifted his shirt to inspect it, but it all seemed out of focus. It was barely evening but he was exhausted after the day’s events and the painful process of tattooing. Dean’s head hit the pillow and he was asleep in seconds.

 

Morning came around far too soon for Dean’s liking, but Castiel’s warm body was curled up next to him. He smiled and turned on his side, immediately regretting it when he leant on his sore side. Dean groaned which inadvertently woke up Castiel.

“What’s the matter?” Castiel asked, voice thick with sleep.

“I just leant on my side and it really hurt.” Dean breathed, shutting his eyes to try and block out the pain.

“I can ask Garth for more medication if you wish.” Castiel suggested, running a hand down Dean’s spine to comfort him.

“Nope. I’m fine. It’ll be fine.” He said, rolling onto his back before sitting up against the wall. The pain began to subside a little now that he was no longer aggravating it and he could breathe easier. Castiel had turned to face towards him and looked up at Dean with sleepy blue eyes. Dean threaded his hand into Castiel’s hair and watched as his eyes fluttered between open and shut in contentment.

Dean wished moments like this could last forever. He wanted this – whatever they had together – to last forever.

“Dean?” Castiel yawned. He smacked his lips a few times before continuing. “Will you be my first mate?”

Dean’s hand paused in the midst of Castiel’s tangle of black hair. Of course he wanted to, but why didn’t he choose Benny or Zachariah? They both had far more experience on the ship, even Charlie would make a great first mate. Castiel had chosen him though, and Dean wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

“Dean?”

“What... I – uh. Why me?” he asked, hoping to get some kind of clarification. Dean’s hand dropped from Castiel’s head as the other man sat up.

“I trust you.” He stated simply. Dean looked down at his hands and how they twisted the cotton sheets at his waist. The dark purple colour contrasting with his tanned complexion.

“What about Benny or Charlie? Don’t you trust them too?” he countered. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be Castiel’s first mate, he just didn’t know why he was choosing him over the more experienced crew members.

“Sure, of course I trust them. They have their own jobs though, if you’re worried about the others accepting you into the role, I can assure you that most of them trust you too, Dean. You have given a lot of this ship without even realising it.” Castiel explained, one of his hands had drifted over to rest upon Dean’s, stopping him from fidgeting. “Dean, do _you_ trust _me_?”

Dean knew he did, despite everything that had happened between them. He’d let him go after his brother even after Gabriel had died and Raphael refused to allow them to. Dean nodded, words not really forming.

Castiel smiled and leaned across to press a kiss to Dean’s cheek. His hands clasped tighter around Dean’s as he closed the distance and whispered in his ear.

“I love you, Dean.” Another kiss to the shell of Dean’s ear as Dean sat in stunned silence. He should say it back, he wanted to, because he felt the same. He’d felt it the night Castiel had joined him up in the archangel’s figurehead. Maybe love hadn’t been the word back then, but it had still been there.

“Cas – I, I love you, too.” He told him, meaning every word. He took his hands and cupped Castiel’s face. Pain flared up at his side as he twisted awkwardly but he ignored it easily and he pressed his lips against Castiel’s. The kiss could have lasted minutes or hours and neither of them would have known the difference as it felt like an eternity. It meant so much more now than it ever had before. It was only when they had no breath left that they pulled apart gasping and grinning.

Castiel rested his head against Dean’s, just breathing in everything they had between them. “We should get dressed. We’ll be taking up anchor soon and getting back on course.”

They sat there for several more moments, heads still pressed together, eyes still closed, settled and content. It was only when Castiel tipped Dean’s chin towards his mouth and kissed him again, short and sweet, that Castiel then pulled away and got out of bed. Dean raked his eyes up and down the captain’s lean body before easing himself up onto his feet.

Dressed for the day, they both left the cabin; Castiel headed towards the main deck while Dean headed for the mess to scrounge up some form of food from his brother.

Luckily there was a bowl on the side and Sam was busy washing up the bowls. Dean leapt up onto the wooden counter and dug in to the cereal.

“Hey! That was mine, jerk!” Sam chastised, whacking Dean’s leg with the cloth he was using to dry up.

Dean put the spoon back in the bowl, and grinned as he slowly took another mouthful. Sam scowled at him before hitting him again.

“Bitch.” He jibed with a smile.

“Ugh, you’re so happy this morning, what is wrong with you?” Sam teased, scrunching his face up.

Dean mocked his little brother with a whiny voice. “Nothing is wrong. Can’t a guy be happy?”

“Ooh,” Realisation hit Sam. “You and Castiel.... you... you know...” Sam shuddered making Dean laugh.

“No, we didn’t do _that_.” Dean assured him. “he told...”

“He told you he loved you!?” Sam interjected excitedly. He dropped the large pan he was cleaning with a splash and hugged his brother. “I knew you were in love with him. Did you say it back?”

“Sam, c’mon, it’s none of your business. Get back to cleaning, idiot.” Dean grumbled.

“You totally said it back,” Sam whispered as Dean ruffled his brother's hair to annoy him.

“Still none of your business, short stack.” Dean said as he turned to leave.


	17. Chapter 17

 

Nearly two months later, Castiel could barely hold the amulet due to it being so hot and so bright. Fog had rolled in making navigation hard and slow. They had downed most of the larger sails and let the smaller sails help them cruise towards their final destination.

Dark shapes of sharp, unforgiving rocks loomed ahead of them, Benny yelling out from the crow’s nest which way they needed to turn to avoid them in time.

Dean was busy bustling around and fulfilling the Captain’s orders, he had been made Castiel’s first mate after all.

“Drop anchor!” Benny hollered down to Dean, cupping his hands around his mouth as he shouted.

“Drop anchor!” Dean repeated to Zachariah and Andy across the way. The sound of metal chain reeling out echoed in the fog and the anchor dropped to the bottom of the sea, halting them where they were.

Benny scrambled down the netting and landed gracefully on the deck, heading towards Dean and the Captain.

“The rocks are too close together we’ll never make it through with her, we’ll have to take the small boat.” Benny explained to them.

Castiel nodded and he called out for everyone to gather. Once everyone surrounded him, they were divided into two groups. Castiel, Dean, Sam, Charlie and Benny would head off first, followed by Zachariah, Andy and Garth. It would leave the ship unattended but Castiel didn’t think there’d be anyone around to steal it or any of their belongings. It was a risk, but if this land was as promised – full of riches, jewels and expensive and rare items – then they’d be able to replace anything they lost and he doubted any novice captain would manage to navigate the large vessel back through the dangerous rocks.

Everyone nodded their assent to the plan and disappeared to grab anything they’d need. Sam grabbed his jacket from his hammock and ran a cloth down his sword’s blade. He’d been given it after saving Castiel’s life.

Dean climbed down the rope ladder they’d throw over the side and dropped down into the small boat below them. He stood and waited for his brother to come down after him, giving him a hand to jump down.

Cold seemed to seep through their clothing and the closer they got to the island the thicker the fog seemed to be. Sam subconsciously shuffled himself closer to his brother, he could handle himself but he still liked to know his brother was there.

Castiel steered them expertly through the rocks, Dean was sure they were beginning to take forms of animals but it could just be the fog playing tricks with his mind. There was a scraping sound of rock against wood as the boat rode up the stony shoreline and ground to a halt.

“This is it.” Castiel breathed. He jumped out the boat with a splash and a hand on his sword. He could feel the heat of the amulet in his pocket even through the cloth it was wrapped in.

Dean followed him cautiously, Sam close behind him. Benny and Charlie hung back a little making sure no one crept up behind them. Underfoot turned from harsh and sharp stones to muddy pathways and giant trees loomed above them. They were dark and foreboding, vines hanging off them and almost reaching the ground. The entire place before them was eerie and seemingly uninhabitable until they reach a towering wall. Dark stones piled on top of each other, carefully tessellated so it was sturdy. A once meticulously carved doorway was off to the right and Castiel paced towards it.

The rest of the crew had joined them, those at the back of the small group periodically checking for anyone behind them.

The door seemed to have been weathered over time, obviously someone had been here at some point. There was no lock so Castiel pushed it hard. It didn’t budge. Without word, Dean helped him but to no avail and soon Benny and Zachariah helped too.

“Perhaps you can’t get in this way. Let’s follow the wall to see if there’s another opening.” Castiel said and everyone followed the dark haired man.

The wall seemed endless. They walked around it for hours until the sky darkened and the dense forest was nothing but silhouetted trees. They kept close to one another, not willing to lose anybody in the unforgiving gloom.

Dean shuddered as something brushed his shoulder that wasn’t a person and it only gave him a little reprieve when he realised he’d just walked by a vine. He hated whatever this place was and couldn’t see any appeal as to why Castiel’s father so desperately wanted to come here.

“Anyone got a match?” Castiel asked, picking up a dead branch from the floor and stripping it of its bark. He made quick work of making the torch and Benny passed him a book of matches from his jacket pocket. He lit it off the side of his boot and lit the end. Almost immediately they could see each other and the wall. They were some distance from where they started and decided to head back. At least with the torch they’d be able to see where they were going.  There _had_ to be a way through that door.

Exhaustion was beginning to get to them, Andy dropping behind and Sam clinging on to Dean just to stay standing.

The door was back in sight so Castiel halted their group. “We’ll camp out for the night, try again in the morning when we have more light.” Castiel said. He wasn’t tired himself but the rest of his crew were so he moved himself to one side and found a soft mossy area to sit down in. He planted the torch firmly into the ground and let its light shed around them. Dean sat himself down next to Castiel and Sam next to Dean, leaning against his side.

“You should sleep, Dean.” Castiel said quietly, noticing that Sam had already dropped off.

“Not sure I’ll be able to sleep in this place. It doesn’t creep you out?” Dean wondered.

Castiel leant over, pressing a kiss that was no more than simple comfort to Dean’s temple. “It does. But I’m watching out for everyone tonight.” Dean yawned and lay down, gently pulling Sam with him who barely stirred. It reminded him of when they used to share the bed in the back room of the cart shop. A dull feeling settled over Dean as his thoughts turned to his father. As much as this freedom of being a pirate was enjoyable he missed the mechanical day by day work of working on broken carts. He remembered the pompous men that would come in, demanding their carts to be fixed. Despite his dad’s occasional anger towards some of the greedier clients – wanting the job done quicker and for less money – Dean had really thought he could spend every day of his life fixing carts and carriages.

Dean absentmindedly pulled his younger brother closer towards him. He wasn’t so small anymore and had grown significantly in the time they’d been on the ship; Dean was getting a little jealous of his brother’s height; Sam’s head rested easily on Dean’s shoulder now. Dean sighed and closed his eyes, willing his mind to think he was elsewhere. Long, gentle fingers stroked through the short parts of Dean’s hair, sending content shivers down his spine as his body began to relax. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep.

Morning came and Dean was being shaken awake by the scruffy-haired captain. It was barely dawn and there was a distinct chill in the air seeping through his clothes, bone deep and making him shiver. Everyone else was waking up too, aside from Sam who was still fast asleep, head lolled to one side. Dean shook him awake and he blinked slowly into the light, screwing his face up and shoving at Dean.

“Ugh. Why d’ya wake me up?” Sam asked, obviously having forgotten where they were.

“We’re on the island, idiot.” Dean grumbled, standing up and following Castiel to where he was heading back over to the gateway.

Castiel stood before the gate. It looked more obvious in the brighter light and he stared at it, giving it his signature squint as he tried to puzzle it out. Dean stood beside him, letting Castiel think, only their shoulders touching.

“There.” Dean said suddenly after several moments of silence. Dean pointed to a misshapen nook on the gate right in the centre. Castiel replied with a confused grunt. “My amulet. It’s the same kinda shape. Put it next to it.”

“Oh!” Castiel grinned, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out the still hot and glowing amulet and held it up to the gap. The amulet was magnetised to the gate, fitting into place perfectly.

The amulet glowed brighter and brighter, everyone shielding their eyes from the blinding light. It seemed forever until the light died down. The amulet dropped from the space and Castiel caught it deftly before handing it over to Dean, who smiled at him gratefully. It felt good to have the familiar weight hanging from his neck again, especially after the many months it hadn’t been in his possession. There was a clunk of stone against stone as something began to move.

Sam gasped as the gate opened fully to reveal lush trees, rich fruit and fresh water streams. It was glorious to say the least. This was so much better that what they’re were expecting. It looked as if there were people here too with paths cut between the trees and shrubbery.

Sam picked a small dark fruit from the thorny bush to one side as they all made their way inside. The doors banged ominously shut as they did but none of them seemed to care as they were so busy looking at everything.

The fruit was sweet and squishy and Sam picked a couple more finding a red streak across the back of his hand as he wiped his mouth.

“Dude, your tongue is purple.” Dean told him and Sam grinned, popping another fruit in his mouth.

“Sam, be careful, they might be poisonous!” Castiel chastised. Sam dropped the fruits to the floor and spat out the remains of what he’d just eaten. Castiel just shook his head and carried on going.

Dean stuck absentmindedly to Castiel’s side, one wary hand on his sword and looking out for any potential danger as Castiel drank in the sights. They were beautiful and as they rounded a corner of the uneven pathway they were greeted with a giant waterfall cascading into the depths of the centre of the island. Castiel gasped.

He’d never seen something so breathtaking and it made minute shivers run up and down his spine. It was just as his father described. _Perfection on an island_. Filled with riches, both of fruits and money.

Dean wondered if anyone lived here, he guessed they might, considering the carefully cut paths and what he guessed to be manmade shacks in the valley below. He was wary of it, they probably didn’t want intruders on their island and probably wouldn’t go down without a fight. He didn’t know how far Castiel was prepared to go.

He made Castiel aware of the small shelters nestled between the leaves of the trees below and Castiel just smiled, confusing Dean.

“What’s that grin for?” Dean wondered, turning Castiel to face him.

“There’s people here, Dean. We can go and talk to them.”

“Wait, what if they don’t like that we’re here?” Dean reasoned because truthfully as much as Dean knew how to fight and had vastly improved with Castiel training him, he wasn’t particularly up for walking into danger if he could help it. He had a – not so little – little brother to look out for. He’d lost him once; he wasn’t about to let it happen again.

It was as if Castiel could sense Dean’s apprehension because Castiel grabbed his hands tight and pressed a frivolous kiss to his cheek. “I’m the captain of the Archangel. I’ve got this.” He announced with a confidence that Dean envied.

“Okay. Let’s go then?”

“Let’s go.”

They tread carefully down the ever steepening mountainside. Castiel had his arms out to steady himself as the loose scree shifted under his feet, he felt Dean’s hand come out to catch him several times and it lit something within him.  Even though he hadn’t needed the steady hand it was endearing to say the least and Castiel didn’t say anything about it.

Finally reaching what seemed to be the bottom, the group found themselves up against a lake of water, the sound of the waterfall rushing in their ears and drowning out any spoken communication. The water, swirling and harsh, seemed on ominous and uninviting.

Castiel tapped Dean on the shoulder and he span around, eyes wide and curious. He explained, leaning in close, that in order to get to what seemed to be a village, they needed to cross the water.

Dean shook his head, it wasn’t going to work and he knew it. Dean could see the darker, deeper water in the centre, so unless they waded around the edge there was no chance to get the crew across safely. Dean scanned the lake, trying to find a safe route. The majority of the way around was steep cliff faces aside from the way they had come down, but the waterfall looked somewhat promising.

“What if we went behind the waterfall?” Dean yelled close to Castiel’s ear. He watched as Castiel thought over Dean’s plan before nodding once and summoning the rest of the crew to come closer.

The spray from the waterfall could be felt long before they reached it, the water soaking into their jackets and making them feel damp, heavy and uncomfortable. Dean hated how the wetness stuck to his skin and made him feel trapped in his clothing, what they wore was so much different to the loose fitting cotton clothes they used to wear. He’d get used to it, Dean knew that, but it didn’t stop him from finding it uncomfortable at times.

The roar of the waterfall filled their ears as they came close, forming a singular line and beginning to walk across the narrow, slippery pathway that had been formed by the gushing waterfall against the rocks. Several times, Dean felt his leather soled boots slip on the wet surface and there was a moment of panic as he couldn’t find anything to get a hold onto before he felt strong arms behind him, holding him up. He turned to see Benny, who gave him a curt nod. Dean nodded back in thanks and carried on the treacherous path, hoping it would end soon.

Finally, there was daylight and Dean emerged after Castiel and his brother, followed by Benny and the rest of the crew all in one piece save for being rather drenched. Dean hadn’t realised just how warm it had been behind the water until the cool air from the other side hit him, chilling him instantly. He tried to relax to refrain from shivering but he could see most of the crew were despite their hardy appearances.

They took a moment to catch their breaths and sort themselves out before carrying on along a cut path. From here, Dean could see the small shelters more clearly, they weren’t much more than that, just a canopy type structure to keep whoever lived underneath shielded from the elements.

Dean drew his sword in anticipation and the rest followed suit except for Castiel who didn’t even put his hand to his sword. He must have a lot of faith in whoever these people were not to kill them.

“Hello?” Castiel called.  Just the sound of his raised voice had Dean coiled like a spring. He sure hoped these people were friendly. He chanced a glance backwards and saw it was, thankfully, just their crew members and did a quick headcount to make sure everyone was still present.

There was a cracking of a branch snapping and all their heads turned instinctively to the right. Another branch snapped to their left. Another behind them. And another and another, until they found themselves as a tightly bunched group, backs to each other and scanning the trees.

It was a trap.


	18. Chapter 18

Dean forced himself to be calm, _look out for Sammy_ the only thought running through his head. His sword was drawn, pointing in no particular direction towards the unseen enemy. He scanned the trees several times but saw nothing to indicate anyone was out there and that made his stomach curdle with fear, not that he’d let it show. Someone pressed against his side and courage ran through him like a spark when he saw it was Castiel.

Dean finally had his brother in sight too, to his right the younger boy had a determined look in his eyes, hand steady, deadly. It scared Dean a little that his baby brother had changed so much, especially since that night with Raphael. He had a newfound aura of hardiness about him, no longer the kid who whined for another serving of soup which Dean gave to him, despite limiting his own food. It did make him proud though at the same time; they were both well dressed, fairly respected and good at what they were doing. Not like before where fixing carts was all they could do and there were no other opportunities.

There was a shrill screech that sounded neither human nor animal and it shook them all to the core, the sound ringing in their ears long after it had gone. They all tried to bounce back to alertness but it was difficult with the ringing in their ears and when they finally did get their wits about them they really were surrounded. A dozen men and women circled them, wearing clothing created from the trees in the area, holding well-crafted spears and daggers in their grips, expressions menacing.

“We mean no harm.” Castiel tried to reason, but all that did was make them advance closer. Dean looked to Castiel for confirmation of what to do but he was calm as ever, keeping his gaze on the tall man in front of him, hand only resting on the hilt of his sword, trying to seem as unthreatening as he could. Dean didn’t know how he was keeping his calm façade when inside he was in complete turmoil, breathing heavy, movements skittish, just knowing that this could be the end. He couldn’t believe it, not really, not after all the hard work they went through to get here. The island that Castiel and Castiel’s late father had been chasing inhabited by people who didn’t want them there, he couldn’t even fathom how devastated Castiel must be.

One of the men strode towards Castiel and Dean could see he was doing his best to remain calm and unfazed. He stood far too close to Castiel for Dean’s comfort and Dean absentmindedly drew closer to him, just in case.

“You are not welcome on this island.” The man said in a slow, heavy accent that suggested English wasn’t his first language.

“We came from word of mouth.” Castiel began. “We found an amulet that opened the door.” Dean wanted to scoff – they didn’t _find_ the amulet, it was Dean’s.

The man seemed surprised at this and held out his hand with a frown. Dean’s hand immediately went to his neck, whether it was to hide the amulet or just to make sure it was still there he didn’t know but the man had seen him and was now approaching him. His stomach coiled, afraid and unsure.

“You have this... amulet?” the man asked. Dean couldn’t say anything so just nodded.

Then it happened so quick, Dean had barely blinked and the man was behind him, a sharp dagger to his neck. He was now facing he rest of the crew who were looking helpless. Any wrong move could potentially get Dean killed.

Dean breathed slow, laboured breaths, trying not to make the knife at his throat dig any deeper than it already was. The man was strong, seemingly inhuman and Dean was held close to his body. He couldn’t move, he could barely breathe and the look on Sam’s face would haunt him for eternity.

It was twisted in anguish and sorrow, Castiel’s hand on his chest as a silent instruction to stay where he was.

“He has the amulet. He stays with us.” The knife drew tighter and Dean could feel the sting as it cut into the delicate skin of his neck. _No..._ “You do not belong here. Get off this island.” He warned. The man holding Dean began to step backwards towards the forest area, Dean trying not to stumble on the uneven ground; one slip could result in death and it wasn’t something he was gambling.

“Dean is not yours to take!” Castiel bellowed, eyes narrowing, stepping forward dangerously. His sword was held high. He took several steps forward as the island man took several back.

“He has the amulet that belongs to this island.” The man told him, Dean was being dragged backwards and he hated the lack of control.

“Dean is family. Dean belongs to us.” Castiel declared. He was, he belonged on the Archangel – that was all that mattered because he _belonged_ to the ship, to Castiel, with his brother and the rest of the crew.

Amidst all the commotion, Dean saw Sam smirk at him, eyeing him with a silent plan. It was all they needed between the two of them because above everything Dean would look out for Sammy and despite his protests Sam would look out for Dean. It hardly ever mattered if others were involved though this time something within him ached for Castiel which was a somewhat unfamiliar feeling that he had grown used to over the past few months. Dean put it down to Castiel calling him family – Sam was family, and now Castiel was too along with the rest of the crew.

Sam seemed to be able to notice Dean’s apprehension towards Castiel and eyed him quick. Castiel took a glance at Sam and nodded minutely.

Dean took a deep breath, settling his mind for whatever the outcome of this was; whatever would happen, blood would be shed and no doubt it wouldn’t just be the islanders who were injured.

Sam lurched forward with no prior warning to the islanders. Sword high and determined, he dashed towards Dean. Castiel followed close behind and the rest of the crew formed a circle to fend off any of the other islanders as they came toward them.

The sight of Sam charging towards him would have been horrifying had it not been his brother aiming to save his life. Dean shut his eyes, waiting for release... or death.

The knife disappeared with a cry from behind and Dean instantly drew in a big breath and put his hand over the thankfully small wound on his neck.

He heard the fighting going on behind him and in front of him and dived for his sword which had fallen behind a rock. Picking it up, he went towards his brother, who was mid swing at the island man who’d had Dean around the throat.

Two brothers. One man. No chance.

Dean knocked him on top of his head while Sam had him distracted, his dagger against Sam’s long sword clanked together. The man went down in a crumpled heap and they were met in consequence with loud, shrill cries.

Dean and Sam looked around to see the rest of the crew fighting the other islanders, some on the floor some still going strong. Castiel was fending off a large man who looked like a second in command. In comparison, Castiel looked tiny against him, but he was feisty and quick where the man’s bigger stature slowed him down.

Dean could see what was about to happened before Castiel could.

“Cas!” Dean warned, seeing a woman creep up behind Castiel.

But Castiel had already clocked her and grabbed his silver blade from his belt, spinning and plunging it into her without a flinch. There was no pause between killing the island woman and taking the blade and stabbing the man in front of him too. As they both lay on the floor beneath him, he was breathing hard. Dean forgot just how ruthless Castiel could be in the right – or wrong – situation. It was probably the only thing that ever unsettled Dean despite the amount of violence he’d seen both recently and from the men who’d harassed his father for money he owed them.

Images of Castiel wiping his blade on a rag filled his memory and he saw Castiel do just that once again. Castiel looked up and smiled at Dean who only gave him a curt nod in return. He just hoped Castiel didn’t see his uneasiness.

Despite Dean’s unease, something else stirred in his gut, something entirely different on the opposing end of the scale. He didn’t really want to pinpoint what it was but he knew and the side of him that wasn't perturbed by the violence smirked. Dean reasoned that maybe it was because of Castiel’s almost angelic grace to him that it didn’t resonate with him and he huffed a quiet laugh to himself at the thought.

There was a sudden shout but Dean couldn’t tell who it was from and before he knew it there was a heavy weight on his back, crushing him from behind. An arm looped around his neck and tugged at his precious amulet. Dean spun, trying to rid of whoever had jumped him. He dropped his sword in favour of grabbing at the hands encircling his neck.

The islander had a strong grasp and seemed to have no intention of letting go. Dean had to think of something fast. He scanned the area and saw a tall tree stump nearby. He stumbled back to it and rammed his assailant into the stump.

The islander let out a grunt and loosened their grip on him which gave Dean the advantage to shake the man off.

He needed a plan, the islanders would keep going after him as long as he had the amulet. Dean breathed hard, everything ached as he moved towards his discarded sword.

 He had an idea. He didn’t like his idea but it seemed like the only way this mess was going to be solved. He took the amulet off his neck and clasped it tightly in his hand.

 _Sorry, Sammy_. He thought gingerly as he then dropped it against the floor. He took his sword in both hands and, with a cursory glance around him he stabbed the amulet.

A shout for him to stop was heard too late.

Blinding light filled Dean’s eyes and a rumble resonated around him. The islanders were screaming and the crew had bunched together.

Dean had no idea what was happening until Charlie was at his shoulder.

“What did you do?” Charlie yelled as the area around them groaned and cracked. The islanders scattered and ran into hiding.

“I broke the amulet.” Dean said simply.

Charlie’s face contorted to an emotion he had never seen on her before. Disappointment and horror mixed into one. Maybe it had been a bad plan then. Charlie bent down to where the shattered pieces lay scattered. She picked them up, eyeing Dean to help. Dean joined her on the floor.

“Dean!” Sam yelled from across the way. Dean looked over, pieces of amulet in his hand looking irreparable, Sam was crouched down over something. “Dean!” Sam shouted again. Dean made sure he had all the parts in his hand before going over. When he got there his stomach flipped.

Castiel was on the floor, looking ashen and hot as if he had a fever. He was clutching his hand against his chest and Dean could see the unmistakable sight of blood underneath.

“He’s tied to the amulet,” Charlie explained, hovering over Dean’s shoulder.

 _All your fault_ , a voice in Dean’s head told him. Anger towards himself flared and he knelt down quickly, running a gentle hand over Castiel’s forehead. He was hot, feverish and clammy.

“What do we do?” Dean asked, trying to keep panic out of his tone.

“It’s your choice, brother, Castiel made you his first mate. You have to decide.” Benny told him and Dean felt the weight of the decision resting heavily on his shoulders already. His stomach twisted with the unmade decision but ultimately it had already been decided.

He has to get Castiel back to the ship so Garth can help him. Screw the island, they weren’t wanted here anyway.

“We gotta get him back to the ship.” Dean instructed decidedly.

“Arigh’ Chief.” Benny agreed.

Dean looked down to the barely conscious captain and ran a hand through his frantic hair.

“Dean?” Castiel rasped quietly. It pained Dean to hear him like that, quiet and reserved where he was usually loud and assertive – and it was all his doing.

“I’m here, Cas. We gotta get you back to the ship.” He tried to smile, to let Castiel know that he was okay and that everything was under control.

The first thing he did was tear a strip of cloth from the bottom of his undershirt as a makeshift bandage. He wrapped it tightly around Castiel’s hand, doing his best to ignore the wince as he tied it off. Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel and hoisted him up into a sitting position.

“Can you walk?” Dean asked. Castiel’s eyes drooped closed before snapping back open again. He nodded slowly. Dean took his word for it and helped him onto wobbly feet and he breathed heavily from the effort. Castiel was determined, Dean would give him that, but he wasn’t keen to the idea of Castiel falling part way back to the ship. Instead, Dean eyed Benny who seemed to get the message.

Benny looped an arm under Castiel’s knees and his other under his back and picked him up. Castiel protested with a grunt but otherwise remained only half conscious and quiet.

“Let’s move out,” Dean ordered. It felt strange doing the ordering about, especially after years of being the one to follow orders, be it from his father or from Captain Novak. He stowed his sword back in its sheath and took lead of the crew. Sam caught up with Dean at the front and fell in step with him with him without a word.

Dean saw Sam passing worried glances over his shoulder towards Castiel as the made their way back towards the waterfall.

“They don’t seem to be following us.” Andy announced as he took one last scan of the area before they all went under the waterfall. Dean turned to the man and nodded, he noticed the blood on his trousers and on his side, but he didn’t seem pained by his injuries too much.

“Okay, let’s go then.” He said, he looked back to Andy. “Make sure you get your injuries looked at when we get back to the ship,”

Andy nodded his affirmation and disappeared to the back of the line again.

They trudged behind the waterfall once again, all of them relieved when they got to the other side. The trek up the mountain side looked daunting especially with several injuries throughout the crew.

It took them over two hours to make their way up the screen lined mountain side. Dean ended up taking Castiel into his own arms after seeing how worn out Benny had become. The man in his arms was radiating so much heat he was almost uncomfortable to hold. _What had he done?_ Dean hated this, the man he’d grown to love was dying in his arms and it was all his fault.


	19. Chapter 19

Dean was sweating through his still damp jacket by the time they reached the top of the mountainside. Castiel was a heavy, unconscious weight in his strained arms. His shoulders ached after taking the man from Benny, but he wasn’t prepared to let him go.

Castiel’s condition seemed to be worsening by the minute and Dean longed to be back on the ship, somewhere safe and familiar; somewhere they had medical supplies that could help him until they fixed the amulet.

Finally, they found the gate they came through. It opened as they approached. It was louder and stiffer than the first time, Dean put it down to the rumble they’d heard earlier after he’d struck the amulet. He shuffled Castiel in his arms and held him closer to his body, trying his best to keep his emotions in check.

“Castiel will be okay, Dean.” Sam reassured him quietly, nudging his elbow. Dean didn’t look over at Sam, just kept his eyes on the path ahead. He knew if he thought of anything else right now, his emotions would take over and he couldn’t let that happen.

After far too long, the ship was in sight. The heat of the midday sun was beating down on them and it was hard to see through the glare. Dean’s head was thumping from a lack of water and the exertion. _Not much further_ , he reminded himself. He glanced down at the pale form and his stomach lurched from the sight. It wasn’t that it was a bad sight, Dean just knew it wasn’t good and it almost felt like he was carrying a dead body. _No._ He refused to think like that. He mentally shook the thoughts from his head and carried on his journey towards the ship, glancing back for a few moments to see the rest of the crew.

They all looked exhausted. He wasn’t surprised. He doubted many of them had got much sleep the night before, sleeping under the trees in an unfamiliar place and then they’d walked down into the island and now back out all in a single day. Charlie looked forlorn, Benny just looked like he was ready to drop. Garth hung back, keeping a watchful eye on the crew, most likely making sure none of them collapsed.

Andy was being helped along by Zachariah, to Dean’s surprise, he hadn’t realised the man was capable of support. Everyone acted different in times of distress it seemed. He felt bad for Andy, who couldn’t have been that much older than Dean, he’d been injured in the fighting and he hadn’t noticed as he’d been too occupied with Castiel, his brother and the amulet.

Amidst his haze of what were probably irrational thoughts, since he’d done everything he could, they’d reached the rowing boats that they had discarded on the stony shoreline. Benny jogged ahead, despite his obvious fatigue and dragged the boat so it was in a more amenable position for them all to clamber into.

Sam jumped into their boat ahead of Dean and tore off his jacket, balling it up to place on one of the seats.  He was there when Dean stumbled his way to the small boat, and helped Dean lay Castiel down at the bottom, Sam’s jacket tucked under his head. Charlie clambered into after them and sat opposite Sam, taking hold of the two oars.

Dean crouched down next to Castiel and cupped his cheek, he still felt warm – too warm, but Dean decided warm was better than cold. There was a lurch and a crunch as Benny pushed the boat off the shoreline and jumped in. The boat glided back into the dark, murky water and he was thankful it was only a short trip back.

The rope ladder back to the top of _The Archangel_ loomed over them, they’d rafted themselves together and would hoist the rowing boats back up later before they set sail. Right now the first priority was to get the captain well.

Dean stood, balancing himself as the small boat rocked a little. He bent and Benny gave him a hand to pull the limp man up from the bottom of the boat. Dean saw the faintest of blue as Castiel tried to open his eyes, tried to regain consciousness.

“Cas, hey, you hearin’ me?” Dean said frantically. Castiel reached out haphazardly for Dean and he moved himself closer. Dean watched as Castiel gripped his shirt, it was weak but it was something. Dean took that as a good sign and looked to Benny, “Put him on my back. I’ll carry him up.”

Benny’s face scrunched with discontent. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but they didn’t have much else.

“Please, we gotta get him up there,”

“Alright, Chief. I’m comin’ up straight afta’ ya.” Benny said and he lifted the half-conscious captain onto Dean’s back.

“Hold on tight, Cas. I’ve got you.” Castiel only gave a grunt in response but Dean felt Cas’ thighs tighten around his hips and his arms lock around his neck. He gave a nod to Benny who stood directly behind him before ascending the rope ladder. It swayed violently as he took to the first couple of rungs but Sam was quick to grab the bottom and attempt to keep it still.

“Right behind ya, Chief,” Benny announced and Dean felt the ladder move more. He did his best to keep his concentration on the rungs ahead and the weight on his back.

Step. Grab. Step. Grab. It was methodical, bland and straightforward.

Arms loosened.  Panic shot through Dean and he let go with one hand to hold Castiel’s wrists around his neck. “Hey! Cas, stay with me, don’t you fall asleep on me now.” Dean growled. It hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but he wasn’t losing Castiel. Not now.

The top of the ladder was so close.

“Holdin’ on.” Castiel whispered, Dean could hear the fight disintegrating as he weakened.

“We’re close,” Dean whispered back.

He carried on climbing and finally reached the top, his breath laboured and harsh from the effort. Castiel was slipping again and he hurried himself over the edge.

“Cas!” Dean yelled as Castiel slipped. Dean turned quickly and shot his hand out. He caught Castiel by his collar and made to grab more of him as soon as he had his feet planted safely on the deck.

“I got him!” Benny shouted from below. He was holding onto Castiel’s legs. Dean readjusted his hands to pull him up. The man was dead weight – no, not dead, just unconscious – and heavy.

Dean and Castiel fell unceremoniously to the deck of the ship. Heaped in a pile, Dean pulled Castiel towards him and held him close. That had been too close for comfort, even with Benny there.

“You okay?” Benny asked as he came over the side, followed by the rest of the crew. Dean was sure he’d heard yelps of pain, most likely from Andy.

The weight of Castiel in his arms, somewhere that was safe, was comforting and gave him time to breathe. He barely saw Andy being carted off towards the medical room to get his injuries looked at. He sighed into the side of Castiel’s neck before gently kissing him on his temple.

“Dean?” He looked up to see Sam standing over them. “Garth wants Castiel in the medical room.” Dean just nodded and got to his feet before picking Castiel up bridal style and carrying towards the room.

Andy was sat in the corner on a chair, holding a bloody gauze to his side, he was skinny under all his clothing, barely muscled and only tanned on his face and lower arms. Andy gave him a tight lipped smile as he lifted Castiel onto the cloth covered table in the centre of the room.

Garth seemed to set to work immediately, checking him over – eyes, ears, mouth, heart – before disrobing him to his shirt and underwear. Dean just stood and watched. He couldn’t move or do anything. Part of him, in a distant part of his mind, was surprised at Garth’s strength to just move Castiel around wherever he needed him.

Garth ordered for cold water and flannels, fresh water and a cup, and the others in the room scuttled to obey. They were quick coming back, Benny with a pile of flannel cloths from the storage cupboard where only a few weeks ago, Sam had found Castiel nearly strangled to death by his own brother. Charlie came back with a pail of water and another jug of water with a cup tucked in her jacket pocket.

 She handed the items over and stood back as Garth soaked the flannel in the cool water and lay one on Castiel’s forehead. He unbuttoned his shirt, taking note of his bruised ribs, and pressed more cold-soaked flannels to his chest to cool him down.

Dean finally found his feet once Garth had finished for a moment and took steps forward towards the scruffy haired man. He took hold of his clammy hand with both of his own and held it tight as if just holding it would save his life. The pieces of smashed amulet sat in his pocket like a lead weight, dragging his emotions down with it. Castiel was so pale, so unlike his usual self – even if that was grumpy and stoic on most days, no one else had seen him when they woke up in the morning, legs tangled together and faces flushed from the bodily contact. His untameable hair was about the only thing that looked the same.

Dean picked up the cloth from Castiel’s forehead and wiped the grime and dust off the rest of his face. Castiel didn’t even flinch when Dean wiped his neck, something that had only started happening after Raphael had tried to kill him. It had got better, over the last week or so, but it still happened if Dean touched him when he wasn’t prepared for it.

Dipping the flannel back in the bucket, Dean wrung it out before replacing it back on Castiel’s forehead. He kissed Castiel’s fingers that he’d laced between his own before pressing a gentle kiss to Castiel’s pale lips. He was disappointed when Castiel didn’t reciprocate, not that he was expecting him to, he’d just grown used to it. He missed it and it made his heart ache. He didn’t want to let go, not now, not ever, but he needed to fix the amulet if Castiel was ever going to get better. He just hoped it worked.

Dean sat himself down at Garth’s desk, an oil lamp flickering away meant he was able to see better here. It’d be even better if he were to go outside where the sun was still shining bright but he refused to leave Castiel. He lay the pieces out on the surface. It seemed like an impossible task.

“Do we have any glue on board?” Dean asked to no one in particular, just to anyone who knew the ship better than he did. His dad used to use it to fix any broken panels on the carts that came in if the customer couldn’t afford to have a whole side replaced. It had never been pretty but it was functional which is what Dean needed.

Charlie rummaged through Garth’s draws and cupboards, looking for the pot of granules and finally found it hiding at the back. She handed it over to him along with a small dish.

Dean tipped some glue granules into the dish and heated it over the oil lamp. It was slow going but eventually it melted. The smell of it hit him and reminded him of the home he once had. He suddenly hated the pungent smell and breathed defiantly through his mouth as he worked on getting the pieces in the right place. He was lucky that he’d been wearing it since he was twelve, he knew how it looked like the back of his hand.

It was a fiddly process, Dean didn’t have the smallest hands, just the slender fingers he got from his mother (or so his father had told him). The amulet came together piece by piece and eventually it was a completed, sticky mess. He span around hopefully and glanced at Castiel. He was still motionless on the table. Someone had draped a blanket over him and there was no one else in the room except Garth, who’d tucked himself away in the corner.

“I doubt it’s an instant fix.” Garth said. He must have seen the disappointment on Dean’s face. Dean stood and crossed the room, dragging the rickety chair with him to sit beside Castiel. He was cooler than before but Dean didn’t know if that was because of the cold water cloths or the fact he’d fixed the amulet.

Dean didn’t say anything to Garth, just sighed and reached out for Castiel’s hand. He had to get better, there’d be no one to run the ship otherwise – except for Raphael, but that was never going to happen. Dean toyed with the idea telling Raphael about his brother and that the island was a bust but he wrote it off, he didn’t deserve the information; he deserved no more than rotting in his cell below deck.

“Dean?” The voice startled him out of his musings. He turned to see Garth re-soaking the cloths for Castiel. “Would you grab a hammock and blankets for me?”

“Yeah, sure.” Dean stood.

“He'd probably be more comfortable on that rather than the hard table.”

Dean muttered an affirmation. He bent down, pressing a quick kiss to Castiel’s lips, whispering that he’d be back soon.

Somewhat reluctantly, Dean left the room, only to be crowded by Benny and Charlie.

“He okay?” The both asked in unison.

Dean just nodded, it wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth. He pushed past them, not really wanting to speak to them. It was harsh, Castiel had been their captain much longer than he’d been his lover. They deserved to know. Dean sighed half way down the passageway and stopped. He turned to see both Benny and Charlie staring after him. “He’s okay. I fixed the amulet and nothing happened. Garth said it wasn’t going to be a quick fix. I’m just getting a hammock to make him more comfortable. Hopefully it won’t be long before he wakes up,” Dean told them and he watched as they relaxed.

“That's good,”

“Yeah, real good, Chief.”

Dean let himself smile before edging away to retrieve the hammock and blankets like he’d been asked to. He found his old set up still in the main sleeping room and untied it all before bundling it up and carrying it back.

Garth pointed to the beams where he wanted the hammock to hang as he busied himself getting a small pitcher of water.

“Once you’ve done, will you give me a hand getting him to drink some water?” Garth asked. Dean hummed an affirmative and tied the rest of the hammock up. He filled it with the blankets and three pillows, knowing how much Castiel liked his pillows.

Finally, he moved over to the main table where Castiel was still lying, still and breathing shallowly.

“Sit him up a little.” Garth ordered. It seemed so much simpler to follow orders than to dish them out and he complied with ease, hauling himself up at Castiel’s head and then pulling Castiel back to lean against his chest. The man’s head lolled forward but Dean eased him upright, stroking his cheek.

Garth dabbed a few drops of water onto Castiel’s lips to moisten them before pouring a minute amount into his mouth. Castiel didn’t swallow the water, just let it trickle down his throat. They repeated the process, bit by bit until at least a quarter of the pitcher was gone. It was the only way to keep Castiel from dehydrating.

“That will be enough for now. Let’s put him in the hammock, it’ll be more comfortable for him.” Garth said. They both picked him up, Dean taking him under his arms and Garth grabbing his legs, carrying him the short distance.

Garth left Dean to tend to Castiel once he was inside, and he stroked through his hair, and ran a finger down his soft, pale face. His colour was returning, maybe it was fixing the amulet, maybe the fever was finally breaking, maybe the water was doing its job.

He pulled the chair over and sat down, willing to wait until Castiel woke up. He might have duties as First Mate but they weren’t going anywhere; some of the others were recovering too. Besides, he was sure Benny or Charlie could handle it.

Garth came by a few hours later, another pitcher of water and a pack of crackers – the ones he and Sam had eaten when they’d been stowed away among the supplies. He nudged Dean who had nodded off without realising.

“You should get some sleep, in your bed, not here. He’ll be fine without you.” Garth said gently, he peered over the edge of the hammock and saw Castiel was still unconscious. “I can’t imagine him waking for at least a few more hours.”

Dean looked to him with tired eyes, the exhaustion from their excursion hitting him full force. He shook his head and stood, mentally shaking the tiredness from his body. “I’m fine. Let me help.”

Garth just sighed and let Dean help him get some water into Castiel. This time, Garth crushed some crackers up before soaking them in water to make a thin paste. He put it on Castiel’s tongue but when the man made no effort to swallow still, Garth washed it down with more water. He’d try again later, or maybe the next day.


	20. Chapter 20

Dean stayed with Castiel the entire night, refusing to fall asleep. He kept himself busy watching the rise and fall of Castiel’s chest as he breathed shallowly. He gave more water to Castiel part way through the night. It was dark and only one of the oil lamps was still flickering by that time and even that was nearly burnt out. Dean sighed as he leant over, opening Castiel’s mouth and trickling the water in. He even tried a little more of the cracker paste, before washing it down with water, like Garth had done.

It was bordering on frustrating how unresponsive Castiel was. He’d really hoped fixing the amulet would solve everything.

There was a knock on the door and Dean startled from a trance of stroking through Castiel’s hair. It was mind numbing and soothing at the same time and he willed it to be of some kind of comfort for Castiel too.

The door squeaked open and Sam came in. Dean barely registered him as he came to stand beside him. Sam looped his long arms around Dean’s waist and leant into his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, just knew that his being there was probably comforting Dean in some way, not that Dean would ever tell him so.

“He’ll pull through this, Dean. I know he will. He’s strong like that.” Sam said quietly, barely a whisper.

“I know. Believe me I know.” Dean replied.

Something seemed to shift. A sigh was heard, but it was neither of the brothers and they looked at each other quizzically before shooting their gazes to Castiel. He still seemed asleep, but the rise and fall of his chest seemed more prominent and there was a slight frown at his forehead.

“Cas?” Dean encouraged quietly. There was no response but whatever had changed was for the better. He was waking up.

Dean grabbed the pitcher off the desk beside them and offered up some water to Castiel’s lips. The unconscious man took it gracefully and Dean smiled, pride blooming in his chest. He was able to get him to take some food, and almost laughed at him when Castiel’s face turned up at the taste of the soggy crackers. When Dean thought about it, watered crackers didn’t exactly sound very nice.

“Hey, Sam, you reckon you can make up some broth for Cas?” Dean asked. Sam pulled away from him and nodded before scuttling off.

Dean looked around him before speaking, wanting it to be a more private moment between the two of them. He took his hand, rubbing his thumb over the warm fingers and then rubbing circles into the back of his hand. “You know, you’ve been unconscious for a day, and everyone is missing you already. Whatever it is that’s keepin’ you under, you gotta fight it. And…” Dean trailed off for a moment, his fingers stopped working the soft skin of Castiel’s hand. “And… I love you, Cas. So you gotta come outta this to captain this ship again. We can go find a new island and see what’s there. Maybe battle ships like I heard about in stories when I was a kid. I dunno, Cas, I just need you to wake up.”

Dean sat heavily back into the chair and thumbed a piece of thread from a button on his jacket. The door swung open again and the smell of chicken broth wafted in.

“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean said. He fed the soup spoonful by spoonful to Castiel, who swallowed reflexively. It felt good that Castiel seemed to be getting better. He’d been jumping the cannon before, he realised, when he’d assumed Castiel would wake up as soon as he’d fixed the amulet. Things like this took time.

Hours went by, morning turned to afternoon, afternoon to evening and before Dean knew it, it was dark and he’d barely moved. His stomach rumbled but he quickly dismissed it. Instead he kept his eye on Castiel who had yet to wake, but had been able to take in a little more food and water. The rest of the crew had generally left them alone.

Charlie had come in during the day to try and get Dean to go to the mess with them to eat lunch, but he’d adamantly refused. She’d bought some in to him in the end, though the stew lay cold and untouched on the counter. Charlie had lingered for a moment longer than she probably needed, as if she had something else to say before shaking her head and leaving them both be. The uneasiness she left behind concerned Dean, but he had bigger things to worry about than the crew tiptoeing around them.

Sam came in some time later, feet quiet on the deck. Dean barely heard him until he was right behind him.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was quiet, notes of concern tugging at the edges. There was a tug at Dean’s sleeve. “Dean? You gotta eat something.”

“I’m fine, Sammy.” There was more frustration in his voice than he meant and Sam recoiled a little which left Dean with an empty feeling in his stomach that wasn’t hunger. Guilt flooded through Dean and he sighed. “Sorry.” He glanced at Castiel before turning to his brother.

“He’ll wake up soon, Dean. He’s already getting better, his fever’s gone and he’s drinking again.” Sam reassured him.

“I know,” Dean told him, because he did, he just wouldn’t believe him until Castiel actually woke up. “I know…”

“Come eat.” Sam instructed.

“I’m _fine_ , Sammy,” Dean repeated. He hated this.

“You should eat something, Dean,” It was a croaky whisper but had both brothers turning their heads sharply towards the hammock.

“Cas?” Sam said, peering over the edge to see Castiel’s awake but weary eyes looking back at him.

Castiel smiled a little before hoisting himself up a little into a sitting position with great effort and took in his surroundings. He looked a little confused to be in a hammock in the medical room but he shook it off and looked to Dean who was still staring at him in what seems to be shock.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was softer than he’s ever heard it, softer than the times they’ve whispered to each other well into the night and in the early morning sunrises. Dean couldn’t help but throw himself forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Castiel. There was a huff from Sam as he was blindsided by Dean. Dean would apologise later but right now wrapping his arms around Castiel was all he needed. It was warmth that wasn’t the clammy hotness of fever – it was just Castiel. “I’m okay, Dean… I’m okay.” He whispered so only Dean could hear.

“Glad to have you back, Cas,” Dean whispered back. Castiel shifted under him and Dean pulled back. Sam must’ve disappeared to tell everyone he’d woken up as he was no longer in the room with them, much to Dean’s relief.  

“Will you help me out of the hammock please?” Castiel asked. Dean was a little taken aback by Castiel asking for help, knowing that the hardy captain would normally – stubbornly – try to do it himself. Dean nodded and thrust two strong arms towards Castiel who latched on to them with a weak grip. As soon as Castiel stepped on to the hard, wooden deck, Dean knew it was about to go badly.

Castiel’s legs wobbled underneath him and he stumbled forward, his weak grip on Dean’s arms not strong enough to hold him up. Dean was ready, however, and caught Castiel before he could fall.

“I’ve got you, Cas. C’mon, hold onto me.” Dean encouraged and saw the determination in Castiel’s eyes as they locked to his own. They were the stormy blue that he remembered from their first encounter, from when Castiel had spared their lives in spite of his own brother’s orders.

Castiel took a few steps forward, guided by Dean, and seemed to be getting his sea legs back quickly. “How long was I out for?” Castiel asked, watching his feet move one in front of the other, towards the centre of the room.

“Two days. Felt like a whole lot longer though.” Dean admitted. When Dean thought about it, it meant he hadn’t slept or eaten in two days either. Castiel seemed to sense his thinking and stopped, straightening himself up and standing on his own. His bare chest and loose underwear made him look a lot younger than his twenty-two years but it was sweet and something Dean enjoyed viewing.

“Dean… You should look after yourself,” Castiel scolded gently. He brought a hand up to Dean’s now flushed cheek and cupped it gently.

“I was tryin’ to look after you; I hurt you, Cas. I smashed that amulet and I didn’t even think of the consequences.” Dean told him, whispered so no one else could hear him voice his emotions so raw and open.

“You didn’t know. There was no way you could have known. I’m okay though, Dean. Look at me. I’m okay.” Castiel tilted Dean’s chin and looked into his watery green eyes. He smiled at him and Dean smiled back. “You need food and sleep. I’m sure Benny has something in the kitchen for you.” Castiel went up on his toes to press the most gentle kiss to Dean’s forehead before setting his feet flat on the floor and kissing his lips in the same manner.

Exhaustion was written all over Dean’s face. “Come on, come with me.” Castiel said, holding out his hand.

“It’s okay, you should probably go and see the rest of the crew, they’ve been lost without you.” Castiel huffed a small laugh before nodding, trusting that Dean would go and eat something before going to sleep.

Castiel disappeared out the medical room on much steadier feet to let his crew know that he was okay and that they’d be leaving at dawn.

Benny warmed up some thick chicken soup for Dean and gave him three chunky slices of bread. He seemed pleased to see Dean out of the medical room and looking after Castiel, not that he mentioned anything to Dean.

Dean wolfed the hot soup down and practically inhaled the bread realising just how hungry he was. Stomach contented, he made his way to the captain’s cabin. He stripped off after closing the door, leaving just his underwear on, and left his clothes in a strewn trail leading to the bed.

The soft cotton sheets felt like heaven against his naked chest. He breathed the faint smell in briefly before bunching up his pillow in his arms and falling asleep within seconds.

Dean stirred only a little when Castiel came to bed later that evening. Despite his two days of unconsciousness he was as exhausted as if he’d not slept in an age. Dean had been asleep for hours already and only mumbled muffled words as Castiel slipped in behind him, pressing his chest against Dean’s back and intertwining their hands together over Dean’s chest. Castiel stole a kiss to the nape of Dean’s neck and nuzzled into his strong shoulder blades before drifting off himself.

A stream of sunlight woke Dean as it shone through the porthole in Castiel’s cabin. He could feel Castiel behind him, chest warm and soothing against his back, he could feel his even breaths as he slept soundly. Dean turned over to face Castiel and watched his softened features, nothing like they’d been over the last two days. They were relaxed, contented. Dean was so enamoured by Castiel’s restfulness that he hadn’t noticed the ocean blue eyes looking back at him. Dean dipped his head in slight embarrassment of being caught before pressing a kiss to Castiel’s warm cheek.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel whispered, smiling widely.

“How are you feeling?” Typical Dean to ask him how he was.

“I’m feeling much better, thank you,” Castiel brought his fingers up to rest over Dean’s waist and trailed it over his bare back, feeling the tiny, fair hairs on Dean’s back stand up on end as a minute shiver ran through Dean. “I’m going to see Raphael this morning before we leave,” Dean made a face at his name. Castiel closed his eyes slowly, breathing out. “He’s still my brother, Dean, please understand. If anything, he should know about the island.”

Dean did understand what it was like to love your brother, he’d do _anything_ for Sam and had proven so when he’d been kidnapped. Dean pulled Castiel close as a silent apology and Castiel seemed to relax.

“I have to go,” Castiel got up out of bed, just wearing his underwear, like Dean, and began to slide himself out of them to change into clean ones. Dean watched fervently, blushing as if he’d never seen the sight before. Castiel pulled on his long johns, followed by his shirt and jacket before turning to Dean who had an eyebrow cocked at him “What?”

“Nothin’, nothin’ at all,” He smirked. Castiel batted him on the arm in jest and opened the door to leave.

“I love you, Dean.” Castiel told him earnestly and Dean grinned.

Dean dressed himself eagerly, excited to see Charlie and dictate where they should head next, he had ideas for somewhere warm as winter was drawing in.

When he got outside there was a lot of commotion. Everyone was busying around the ship in preparation for departure, Benny and Zachariah were beginning to hoist the sails, he could see Charlie at the hull looking over maps and charts.

He shivered as a cool gust of wind lifted the hairs on his neck before heading towards Charlie.

“Dean...” He turned to see a very pale-faced Castiel.

“Cas? Are you okay?” Dean asked, stepping forward to reach out for him. Castiel stepped back, shaking his head. “Cas? What’s wrong?”

“- gone...” he said brokenly. Dean frowned not understanding what he meant.

“Gone? What do you mean?” Dean grabbed hold of Castiel’s upper arms. He looked like he was about to drop. It was scaring him. Quiet, broken-looking Castiel.

Castiel seemed to compose himself a little. “Raphael is gone. The lock was broken. He’s gone.” Dean strokes soothing lines down Castiel’s arms before pulling him into a hug.

“It’s okay. We’ll search for him.” Dean said before moving away and turning to face the rest of the crew.  “Ship-wide search for Raphael!” he ordered loudly. Everyone turned to them both. He hoped they wouldn’t see their Captain’s look of horror.

No one answered straight away. Benny jumped down gracefully from the rigging after finishing up raising and securing the sail and glanced carefully at Charlie and then to Castiel.

“Captain… I… when we…” Benny stumbled, trying to phrase what he was trying to say carefully. “Captain, I went down to see him as soon as we got back on board. He wasn’t there. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Castiel demanded.

“Cas? C’mon, you’ve been laid up since you’ve been back on ship.” Dean tried to reason, Benny didn’t deserve Castiel’s wrath.

Castiel’s rage seemed to simmer for a moment before he took a breath and bowing his head. Frustration and grief still bubbled beneath the surface but Dean’s hand on his arm grounded him.

“Apologies, Benny.” He said, looking at him earnestly.

It wasn’t long before they were all gathered around Dean and Castiel with solemn looks on their faces. Raphael was gone which meant he’d escaped and abandoned ship. There was a mix of emotions of Castiel’s face that he couldn’t figure but they didn’t last long before Castiel composed himself. He took a deep, shuddering breath and then another, smoother inhale.

“Miss Bradbury, let’s take a look at the charts and plot our route out of here.” He said. The moment of grief passed scarily quick and Dean wasn’t entirely sure that Castiel was okay with it. All he could do for now is let it slide and talk to him later when they were somewhere more private.

“Yes, Captain.” Charlie replied cheerily, Dean could see she was trying to keep the mood light. Everyone else seemed to get the message and moved off to do their own tasks. Dean tugged gently at Castiel’s sleeve before he followed towards a quieter spot. Castiel turned, defiant look in his eye, though not aimed towards Dean.

Dean tucked a finger under Castiel’s chin. He could see, clear in his blue eyes, that he was affected more that he wanted let on.  “He’s still your brother, and you have me, and your crew. We’re your family too.” Dean reminded. Dean would never know it but those few words meant the world to Castiel and his face softened, his eyes less defiant but still determined. He took Dean’s hand, pulling him along towards the navigation deck, not letting go until he got there.

Charlie gave them a grin as they joined her at the table, spreading charts on the table from different parts of the world. They all scoured them, Dean pointing out places that sounded interesting. Castiel showing Dean where they’ve visited before and Charlie trying to draw guidelines between each place and dictating how long it would take to sail there.

In the end, they chose to head towards Watersmeet which was another pirate-safe town, this time Dean and Sam would be able to go off the ship and see a real pirate town for themselves as they now bore the tattoos of pirates.

They’d visit a small port leading north called Arlun on the way up there, Castiel told him he’d been there as a young child and had never forgotten the looming, snow covered mountains there. Dean squeezed his hand in comfort as Castiel retold his childhood memories of the place, it had all happened when everything had been good. Then Charlie pointed out a place that she’d heard Benny talk of called Blackduck Reef and decided to head there afterwards. The water was said to be as dark as night and that tales of vampires had been told for centuries there.

“Hey, we could all be vampirates!” Dean joked, earning an eye roll from Castiel and a playful shove from Charlie. He was sure Benny barked a laugh before he scuttled away.

“Let’s up anchor then and head out towards Arlun. It’s a thirty-day sail there and we’ll be needing to stock up on fresh food at some point.” Castiel instructed and Charlie wrote it down in neat calligraphic script on a sheet of parchment paper.

Castiel wandered up to the helm of the ship, running his fingers over the now scuffed wood. It would need replacing soon, or sanding down at least. The ships crest – an angel with giant wings much like their figurehead – adorned the centre of it and remember Gabriel spending days carving it in Arlun’s port. He smiled at the fond memory.

Dean came up behind him, looping his arms around his waist. “I can hear you thinking from over there.” Dean told him light-heartedly. It was true, whenever Castiel was in deep thought he’d have this posture about him and Dean had learnt how to recognise it quickly.

“Just remembering, that’s all.” Castiel said simply.

They heard Benny yell to up the anchor and felt as the ship’s sails caught the light breeze and headed back out into the wide ocean. The drab and dreary island – and Castiel’s only remaining brother – was left behind them and within a couple of hours was no more than a dot on the horizon.

“Hey, come with me,” Dean announced to Castiel, taking his hand and dragging him towards the forward end of the ship. It was getting a little darker as the sun began to set, spilling red and pinks into the sky.

Castiel followed Dean wordlessly as they made their way to the front of the ship. Dean had snapped up a blanket on his way and Castiel had guessed where they were going. He had guessed right when Dean began to climb up towards the figurehead of the archangel and sat upon one shoulder. Castiel followed moments later, sitting on the other.

“Thought it’d be nice up here this evening,” Dean smiled, rubbing small, comforting circles into the back of Castiel’s hand.

“It’s beautiful, one of the most colourful sunsets I’ve seen in a long while.” Castiel explained. Dean watched Castiel as he gazed at the sky, at how the red-orange light bounced off the clouds. Cas' face was beautiful; always had been and always would, and he'd never grow tired of seeing it.

How far they’d come since the day Castiel had him kneeling on the deck and begging for his and his brother’s lives scared him sometimes, but he loved the man. Loved him like he’d never loved anything else before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8 months of writing. 2 months of editing. And this piece is complete! :D
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read this! I 100% appreciate comments/kudos! :D 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this! (Maybe let me know your favourite parts!)
> 
> Once again, thanks to: Nat, Steph, Neeraja and my artist lennyways! ♥


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